Legacy
by SilverStar24
Summary: Chapter 22 now up! Harry and Lupin are sorting through Sirius's will when they get stuck inside Dumbledore's Pensieve and relive the memories of the Marauders and other Order members. Please review!
1. Escape from Privet Drive

**AN: **Hi everybody! This story will eventually turn into a Marauder's Tale flashback type thing. With angst. I love angst! Be nice: review!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything, etc. etc…

"BOY!" roared Uncle Vernon. "Get down here and help your aunt fix dinner!"

Uncle Vernon had refused to so much as utter Harry's name since he had been threatened on the train platform by quite a few members of the Order of the Phoenix. Perhaps he thought if he screamed Harry's name too loudly Mad Eye would swoop down on him and turn him into a small, furry animal.

"Don't make me repeat myself!" Harry sighed and grudgingly got up off of his thin, creaky mattress. Life at Privet Drive hadn't improved much, except for the fact that Dudley was spending most of the summer at an away wrestling summer camp. It seemed that no matter what he threatened the Dursleys with—animal appendages, escaped convicts, or a train platform full of weirdoes—they still managed to make Harry miserable. His only consolation was that Uncle Vernon had stopped objecting to him watching the news. He wouldn't say that they watched it together, considering that Uncle Vernon had abandoned watching the news entirely and simply glared furiously at Harry while Harry attempted to ignore him and watch the TV.

"I'm coming!" Harry hollered down the stairs. He glanced hopefully out the window. The Order had promised to fetch him as soon as possible, but July was inching along with no sign of anyone coming to rescue him. His birthday was six days away. He had hoped that he would be back with his friends in Grimmauld place before then, but it seemed unlikely. Grimmuald place. Sirius. Harry felt a now familiar pang of emptiness. Pushing thoughts of his godfather out of his mind, he slowly walked out of his room, shutting the door behind him.

Harry glanced at the Quiddith themed calendar on his wall--two more days until he was 16. The Chaser from the Chudley Cannons, pleased to be receiving any attention at all, waved furiously and began tossing the Quaffle up in the air. He then turned his gaze to the clock on his beside table, noting that there was still five hours until the nightly news. Harry had reverted to his favorite summer activity, staring at the ceiling, when suddenly the phone rang.

"Hello?" he heard Uncle Vernon grumble from downstairs. There was a long pause. "BOY!" Harry hurtled out of his bed and stood at the top of the stairs. Uncle Vernon was gripping the telephone so hard his entire hand was white. This phenomenon contrasted sharply with his face, which was quickly changing from red to purple. He seemed to be struggling fiercely to maintain his civility. "It's--for---you---," he managed to choke out. He extended a white, violently convulsing hand towards Harry. Harry bounded down the stairs and eagerly snatched up the phone.

"Hello?" Harry said.

"Harry!" cried a cheerful voice on the other end. It was Hermoine.

"Hello, Hermoine," Harry grinned.

"How are you, Harry?" she inquired in her usual breathless tone. "Lupin owled me and told me to call you on the Muggle phone and tell you that a few members of the Order are coming to pick you up at three o'clock."

"Brilliant," said Harry happily.

"Now you won't have to spend your birthday in that awful place for the 15th year in a row."

"And I'm terrible grateful for that. How's your summer been?"

"Alright...I told my parents we ought to stay close to Dumbledore, what with everything going on..." Hermoine trailed off. Harry noticed that Aunt Petunia had wandered into the living room and was accompanying her husband in glaring at Harry with a mixture of outrage and wariness.

"Hermoine, I should probably go now. I'll see you at Griummald Place." His throat constricted oddly as he mentioned the address.

"Harry..." said Hermoine softly, obviously picking up on the pause in conversation.

"Later," he said quickly, cutting her off. He hung up the phone and turned towards his Aunt and Uncle.

"My...friends are picking me up at three," he explained quietly.

"Right," said Uncle Vernon. He grabbed Petunia's arm and moved jerkily towards the door. "We're going into town for lunch. AND YOU'D BETTER BE GONE WHEN WE GET BACK!" he screamed, slamming the door.

Smiling widely, Harry raced up the stairs to pack his trunk.

Two hours later, Harry was sitting on his trunk, idly tossing his wand in the air. His stomach lept when he heard a chorus of loud _cracks!_ in the living room below him. He ran down the stairs and faced the crowd of people in the Dursley's living room. He was surprised to find it was a much smaller crowd than last time. Glancing around he suddenly became aware of the reason for the diminished size of the group. Standing between Lupin and Mad Eye was none other than Dumbledore himself.

"Hello," said Harry. He received a chorus a greetings from the assembly in front of him. "Hello, Professor," Harry added, turning to Dumbledore. Dumbledore smiled at the look of mild surprise on Harry's face.

"I thought it might be better if I actually spoke to you at some point this summer," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. Harry grinned sheepishly.

"So...how are we getting to headquarters?' Harry inquired politely.

"Portkey," said Moody in his usual gruff tone.

"Really? The Ministry let you set up a portkey? Why?"

"Well they don't know, do they?" Tonks snickered.

"The Ministry has given Dumbledore quite a few...liberties... since Fudge stepped down." Explained Lupin. He absently brushed a string off of his fraying robes.

"Tonks and Kingsley will get your trunk and meet us a headquarters," said Dumbledore, handing Harry a small silver box. Harry picked carefully removed the box from Dumbledore's grasp.

"Right. See you all so—" Harry was cut short as the Portkey jerked him forward and Number Four Privet Drive dissolved into a tunnel of whirling color.


	2. Happy Birthday Harry

Disclaimer: Nope. Not a single original character. Sorry. All copyrighted. A.N: Off to an incredibly slow start. Don't worry, eventually it's going to get relevant, just be patient.  
  
The intense discomfort Harry felt when he arrived at Grimmauld Place had dissipated slightly over the two days that he had spent there. Everything he touched, everything he saw reminded him of Sirius, and how much it hurt that he was gone.  
  
"Cake, Harry dear?" offered Mrs. Weasley, shoving a gooey piece of chocolate birthday cake under Harry's nose. "Thanks," replied Harry, snapping back to reality.  
  
Harry had never experience an actual birthday party. He had spent all of Dudley's birthdays at Mrs. Figg's house. He didn't know if the fact that Mrs. Figg had been trying to make him miserable made him feel better or worse. Above the table, a large red and gold banner, bearing the standard "Happy Birthday, Harry!" was suspended over the table. Ron was chattering happily about Quidditch next year. "...I talked to Angelina and she wants to let me stay on as Keeper!" Ron was saying excitedly. "I've been practicing all summer, and Bill thinks I've really improved!" "That's great, Ron!" said Harry earnestly. He really was happy for him, Harry was just feeling a little bit distracted.  
  
Harry tore the wrapping paper off of a large box of fireworks. "Wow!" he exclaimed, looking up at Fred and George. "Thanks!" Fred and George both nodded, smiling contentedly. "We thought they might come in handy sometime," said Fred. "I hope things don't get too boring at school now that we've left," said George, grinning mischievously. Harry glanced up at Mrs. Wealsey, who was eyeing the box of "Weasley's Wildfire Whizbags" with stern disapproval.  
  
By the time Harry had finished unwrapping his presents, it was almost 11 o'clock. Mrs. Weasley hastily shooed everyone up to bed, but Harry was stopped at the bottom of the stairs but Lupin. "Professor Dumbledore would like to speak with you Harry," he said, ushering Harry down the hall.  
  
Lupin pushed open a creaky door next to the kitchen, which opened to reveal a surprisingly clean, but relatively empty room. Dumbledore was seated behind a dark wooden desk with his hands folded. Sitting on the desk next to him was a large stone basin which cast flickering pools of silver light onto the wall next to it—Dumbledore's Pensieve. Harry stared at the scene quizzically.  
  
"Harry." Dumbledore gestured to a plain wooden chair on the opposite side of the desk. Harry sat down warily, remembering the last time Dumbledore had decided to share serious information with him. Lupin turned to leave but Dumbledore stopped him. "This concerns you as well Remus," said Dumbledore. He gestured to the empty seat next to Harry. Lupin sighed but obediently took his place next to Harry.  
  
"Harry," Dumbledore began, "every member of the Order of the Phoenix was required to create a last will and testament after they had been inducted." Harry's eyes widened. Sirius's will? That was what this was about? Dumbledore continued. "Our mission is extremely dangerous and it was—and is—imperative that we sort out our affairs before we take on any active duty. You—and Remus--," Lupin frowned slightly. "—are the sole benefactors of Sirius's will. If you are ready, you may view Sirius's will in the Penseive. However, if you do not feel ready, you may wait a little while longer. I felt that given past circumstances, it was important that I give you this choice." Dumbledore leaned back and stared at Harry gently through his crescent spectacles.  
  
For a moment, nobody spoke. Harry's mind was racing. "Yes." He said finally. "Harry, you don't have to--" "No," Harry said firmly, cutting Lupin off. "I want to. I'm ready." Dumbledore stood up. "Very well," he said calmly. "Lupin will assist you. I will return a short while, I have some business to attend to." He clicked the door shut behind him.  
  
Lupin pulled out his wand and prodded the Pensieve. He looked thoroughly miserable. He placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Ready, Harry?" he asked. Harry nodded. "Alright, here we go." The Penseive began to swirl and Harry soon felt a familiar tipping sensation as he tumbled head first into someone else's memory.  
  
Harry was surprised to find himself in the exact same room of Grimmuald Place. Lupin was standing next to him, looking straight ahead and apparently not aware that he was still clutching onto Harry's shoulder. Harry turned to face the direction Lupin was staring in. It was Sirius. He was busy chatting with Dumbledore. Harry stared blankly at him. He thought seeing Sirius again would make him feel better, but instead he felt as though the pain inside him had doubled.  
  
"Really, this is pointless," Sirius complained. "What could possible happen to me? I'm not allowed to leave the house!" Dumbledore responded by shutting the study door. Sirius gave a defeated sigh and sat down at the desk. For the first time, Harry noticed two placards sitting on the table—one labeled "Harry" and the one next to it labeled "Remus. "Stand by your name," whispered Lupin, not taking his eyes of Sirius. Harry moved towards his name card.  
  
Sirius finally spoke. "Well, if the two of you are here, I guess that means I'm...dead...I have no idea how I could possibly die when I'm not allowed to leave the house--" He glanced at the door. "Perhaps I could choke on dust...Old Snivelly would love that...Anyway--" he turned his attention towards Harry. "If I am dead...Harry I'm sorry. As your godfather, I should have been there to take care of you—but I haven't been. At all." Sirius was staring at the "empty" space which now contained Harry. "I can't imagine the pain your in right now. To lose your parents, and then---Harry, I just want you to know that you're everything your parents ever hoped you to be. Everything I would ever hope for in a son. You've dealt with so much adversity, but you've always found yourself equal to any hardship. Don't forget that you have so many people in your life who still care about you. I love you. Your parents love you. And we'll always be proud of you."  
  
Harry stared at the table top and blinked furiously. Sirius turned to Lupin. "Moony, my old friend. How does it feel to be the last of the Marauders? Well, the last of the true Marauders, anyway..." Sirius scowled darkly. "I have a two final requests. The first is: Kill Wormtail for me. I really had hoped we could do it together but, I guess that's not going to work out..." Sirius leaned back on his chair. "On the other hand...maybe he's dead already! But I'm being optimistic...unless he shows up at the door I don't think I'm going to get a crack at him..."  
  
"Second request: Look after Harry for me." Harry glanced quickly at Lupin, who was staring intently at his late—and last true friend. "I think James and Lily would have wanted you to. I don't know if anyone ever told you this but I'm fairly sure Lily wanted you to be Harry's godfather." Sirius gestured in mock outrage. "She seemed to think you were more responsible than me. I of course have no idea why, especially after the motorcycle incident..." Sirius snickered. "All those prefect patrols together must have impressed her somehow..." Lupin rolled his eyes but Harry could tell he was struggling to suppress a grin.  
  
"Anyway, on to business!" Sirius leaned forward in his chair and landed with a dull clunk in front of a large stack of papers. "Now here we have a list of all my assets...except of course for my charming personality and good looks—those I take with me to the grave!" Sirius was grinning. Harry gave a small smile despite himself. Having Sirius treat the whole last rites process as a bit of a joke made the process feel almost unreal.  
  
Sirius lifted a paper off the top of the pile. "I, Sirius Black, do hereby will all my worldly possessions, including this disgusting rat hole I have the misfortune of calling home--" Sirius glanced around the study in distaste. "to Harry J. Potter, my godson."  
  
Harry reeled. He hadn't actually considered the fact that he was the most likely candidate for ownership of Order Headquarters now that Sirius was gone. What the hell was he supposed to do with all of his godfathers "worldly possessions"?  
  
AN: All right, time for a new chapter. Next Sirius gives away his family's money! Yay... 


	3. Final Goodbye & Old Beginnings

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Duh!  
  
AN: ah, the angst. Also in this chapter: the fluff. sighs with happiness  
  
Sirius continued to read. "The Ancient and Most Noble House of Black--" Sirius paused and made some sarcastic gagging noises. Harry laughed softly. "—has generously left me, apart from a moldy old house and a lot of deep- seated emotional scarring, the entire family fortune. Actually, I'm fairly sure they would have wanted to give it all to Regelus but he kicked it before I did...Stupid git." He added, muttering.  
  
"More gold?" thought Harry derisively. "At this rate I'm never going to have to work a day in my life..." Of course, the idea of spending Sirius's money made him feel slightly ill.  
  
"I do hereby will two-thirds of my family fortune to Harry J. Potter. I will the remaining third to Remus J. Lupin." Lupin shifted uncomfortably in his seat and began muttering under his breath. Harry glanced at Lupin's robes and wondered why Sirius hadn't given Lupin all of his money.  
  
"I know Remus is probably turning bright red right now—or pink, depending on the time of the month—" Sirius laughed. "so Harry, I'm leaving it up to you. Force him to take the money. Be creative. I've already got the guilt angle covered." He turned to Remus and put on a sad, puppy-dog style face. "Remus! I'm dead. Why won't you take the money? How can you refuse your dead friend's last request?!"  
  
Lupin turned even redder. "I know!" said Sirius brightly. "Transfer the money directly to his Gringott's vault, and then go to Malkin's and buy some new robes. What a great plan! Everyone always felt kind of awkward buying you anything, Moony. Even though it was obvious that you couldn't find a paying job anywhere. Hey, I don't have to feel guilty about giving you money now!"  
  
Sirius laughed for a few moments before falling silent. There was a lull in the one-sided conversation which seemed to last forever. "Well...I suppose that's all there is...Oh, Harry, my motorcycle is in the basement...I think Bill can show you how to ride it. Well..."  
  
There was another pause. "I'm very sorry you two. If I really am dead I suppose I should act more serious about this whole situation." More silence. "I guess this is goodbye, then. Take care...Harry, Remus..." Sirius hung his head. "Goodbye..."  
  
The scene slowly dissolved. Harry couldn't speak. He looked at Lupin. For the first time he wondered silently how much Lupin had been hurt from the losses that had shaken Harry's life so violently. He had lost all of his friends to death and perhaps worse—betrayal.  
  
"What now?" asked Harry quietly. Lupin jumped slightly, seemingly having forgotten Harry was standing beside him. Lupin swallowed and spoke for what Harry realized was the first time since the two of them had arrived in the Pensive.  
  
"Well, Dumbledore should be here to pull us out and sign some paperwork." Lupin frowned and looked around. He and Harry were standing in the center of a slowly revolving vortex of vibrant colors. "Perhaps he got held up somewhere..."  
  
"Can you get us out of here?" Harry asked him. "Not from inside, no. I could probably get us out of one of my own memories, I think there are a few in here somewhere."  
  
"You mean, your will?" Harry asked as gently as possible. "Yes, all members of the Order made one," Lupin said distractedly. He was sill looking around the vortex as if he expected to find a door somewhere. "It was quite a task...I remember poor Molly cried for hours before after and during hers...Perhaps I can find..." He trailed off. The colors swirling around them were now forming into a solid formation. Harry recognized the scene around them immediately. It was the Hogwarts Express.  
  
"Whose memory is this?" asked Harry in mild surprise. He realized that everyone in the Order had probably ridden on the Express dozens of times. "Probably Sirius's," said Lupin quietly. "Most wizards place a whole bunch of memories in the Pensieve to accompany their will--an old tradition I suppose. In the interest of time we didn't really have a chance to choose which memories we threw in..." Lupin explained.  
  
Harry and Lupin were standing in the middle of a deserted corridor on the rapidly moving train. Suddenly, two dark haired boys raced up the corridor and hurtled right through the two intangible bodies in their way. "That will never cease to be weird..." muttered Harry, absently waving his hand around, ghost-like, inside one of the compartment doors.  
  
Harry turned around and stared at the two boys. They were muttering excitedly to each other. "Really? An invisibility cloak? Wow!" said the taller boy obviously impressed. "Yep," said the shorter boy proudly. "My dad gave it to me as a going away present. By the way, my name's James Potter." "Sirius Black," the taller boy replied, extending his hand.  
  
Harry stared at them. It was hard to imagine his father had ever been 11 years old, and yet, there he was, right in front of Harry's eyes. "Come on," said James, tugging heartily on the trunk behind him. "Let's find a seat." Harry and Lupin trailed along behind the two boys as they searched for an empty compartment.  
  
"Can you get us out of here?" Harry asked Lupin quietly, as if James and Sirius might hear them. "I'm not very experienced with Pensieves," said Lupin apologetically. "I could probably pull us out from one of my own memories, but not someone else's." "Do you know how to—eh—navigate in her?" inquired Harry, not taking his eyes off his father. "Not really," replied Lupin. "We'll probably have to go through all of Sirius's memories first..."  
  
James and Sirius had stopped. Sirius stood up on his tiptoes and peered through the door of one of the compartments. "There's only one person in here," Sirius observed. "Brilliant," said James, pushing open the door. Harry followed them inside. The compartment was empty except for one small boy. He was curled up in the corner, fast asleep. He looked pale and slightly sickly, and Harry noticed one or two stray gray hairs in his light brown hair--eleven year old Remus Lupin.  
  
Harry looked at the adult Lupin and grinned. "This actually looks oddly familiar," said Harry, smiling. Lupin grinned back. "I should probably bring a pillow when I travel..." he mused.  
  
"Do you reckon he's all right?" asked James, staring at the sleeping Remus warily. "I dunno, he looks kind of sickly," replied Sirius. He leaned over and poked Remus's shoulder, but Remus remained fast asleep. James joined in. It took them five minutes to get bored with this activity, but Lupin continued to sleep. The adult Lupin was shaking with silent laughter.  
  
"Do you--remember this--at all?" asked Harry, gasping for breath between bursts of laughter. Lupin shook his head, still laughing. James and Sirius were now staring out the window. "I'm bored," said Sirius, "Hey, why don't we—" Sirius was interrupted by a loud bang and a flash of light from the corridor. Little Remus woke up suddenly and fell out of his seat with a yelp. James and Sirius, who had been scrambling out of their seats to see what was going on in the hallway, turned and stared at him for a moment. Little Remus blushed and got up to follow the duo into the hallway.  
  
A gang of menacing looking first years was advancing upon another tiny eleven year old boy, who was cowering on the floor in terror. "I'm—I'm sorry!" the cowering boy squeaked in fear. A dark haired girl with dark, sunken eyes was standing at the front of the group. Behind her, a boy with greasy black hair and a large nose was brandishing his wand.  
  
"You broke my mirror!" shrieked the dark haired girl furiously. "I'm sorry!" sputtered the mousy haired boy, inching backward. "I tripped! It was an accident!" "When we're done with you—" she growled. "Leave him alone!" said James, boldly standing in front of the boy on the floor. Sirius stood next to his friend. "Stop being a git, Bella." He snarled. "Oh?" said Bellatrix smirking. "Are the two of you going to stop us?" The crowd behind her glowered menacingly. Young Snape raised his wand a little higher. "They're not alone!" piped up Remus, standing next to James and Sirius. James glared at the wand wielding boy, who glared right back at him.  
  
Suddenly, the compartment door slid open and two 5th years entered. "What's going on here?" demanded one in a familiar drawling voice. Harry immediately recognized Lucius Malfoy. There was a shiny prefect badge glinting on his chest. "Nothing." Bellatrix lied. She scowled and turned around. The rest of the crowd followed obediently.  
  
"Th—Thanks," said the small squeaking boy, as the two prefects exited the cabinet. James and Sirius pulled him to a standing position. "Sorry those gits were picking on you. I'm ashamed to call them my cousins," said Sirius in an apologetic tone. "What's your name, mate?" "Peter Pettigrew." Squeaked the boy.  
  
James turned and faced Remus, who was still staring at the door Bellatrix and her cronies had just walked through. He had turned an even paler shade of white during the confrontation and looked shocked at his own daring. "What about you, mate?" asked James, smiling. "Remus Lupin." Responded young Lupin. "Thanks for backing us up back there, Remus." Said James, shaking his hand.  
  
The scene began to dissolve. "Snape and his father really had hated each other from the moment they set eyes on each other." Harry mused. He looked at Lupin, who appeared to be lost in though as well. He was glancing at the fading scene fondly.  
  
AN: What do you guys think? Please review and let me know! Should I take the story in a different direction? Any other random scenes I should make up? 


	4. The Sorting

AN: Sorry I haven't updated. I'm on vacation. Thanks to those who reviewed you make me so happy !  
  
"First years, this way please," called a gruff voice. Harry saw a tall man with leathery, weather-beaten skin beckoning a crowd of apprehensive looking first years toward the lake egde. Harry recognized Ogg, the game keeper of Hogwarts before Hagrid, by Mrs. Weasely's description of him. A twenty-years younger Hagrid stood next to him, smiling warmly through a tangle of bushy, but quite short, red hair.  
  
Harry and Lupin watched eleven year old James, Sirius, Remus, and Pettigrew climb on board a boat together. Harry found that he was able to half walk, half bob behind the boats, waist deep in water but still intangible.  
  
James and Sirius were once again chattering excitedly, this time about their favorite Quidditch teams. Remus, who was looking bewilderedly around the boat as if he'd never before had friends, attempted to make polite conversation with Pettigrew. Peter didn't respond. He made a few feeble nodding motions with his head and quickly resigned to staring at the bottom of the boat. Harry was pleased to see that he looked rather green and seasick.  
  
Harry watched Pettigrew carefully for a few minutes, but was sorely disappointed when Pettigrew didn't topple out of the rocking boat. Harry eventually gave up and surveyed the crowd assembled in the boats around him. He noticed that Lupin was doing the same thing.  
  
Harry followed Lupin's gaze to a boat in the back of the crowd which contained only one, lonely looking occupant. He couldn't help feeling a pang of guilt for young Snape, even though a tiny part of him desperately hoped that Snape would fall into the lake.  
  
"Black, Bellatrix!" called Professor McGonagall. "SLYTHERIN" bellowed the Sorting Hat.  
  
"Black, Sirius!" Sirius held his head up high and strode coolly towards the Hat. "GRIFFINDOR!" said the hat. Sirius gave a grim smile and raced over to the Griffindor table. Harry caught him throwing a nervous, fleeting glance towards the Slytherin table. He noticed quite a few of them glaring unpleasantly at him, and immediately understood why. Remembering the ...lovely...décor in Number 12 Grimmuald Place, he imagined that Sirius's family would not be pleased that he hadn't been sorted into Slytherin.  
  
"Bode, Broderick!" "RAVENCLAW!"  
  
Harry noticed that adult Lupin was once again wandering around, apparently trying to identify the people around them. Harry walked right through the Hufflepuff table and joined him.  
  
"There's Tonks's father, Ted," he pointed towards the Ravenclaw table at a second year who had managed to knock all of his dinnerware onto the floor. Apparently Tonks had inherited her father's grace and poise.  
  
"Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black." Harry observed Mr. Malfoy, looking at the Sorting ceremony with a supremely bored expression on his face. He clapped lazily when "Lestrage, Rodolphous" became a Slytherin. Narcissa was splitting her attention between glaring at Sirius and gazing hopefully at Lucius. Lucius didn't –or at least pretended not to—notice as she pulled a long, thin curtain of blond hair around her shoulder and batted her eyelashes in his direction.  
  
Harry followed Lupin to the Griffindor table and as paced the length of it, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Arthur Weasley, 5th year...Molly Prewett, also 5th year." The two young Griffindors were sitting side by side on the bench, holding hands. Mrs. Weasley planted a small kiss on Mr. Weasley's cheek. He turned bright red, a violent shade which matched his fiery hair. Harry was reminded strongly of Ron.  
  
"Gideon and Fabian Prewett, third and second year." Lupin gestured towards two boys. "Amazing beaters, I imagine that's where Fred and George inherited their talent from." Harry looked at Mrs. Wealsey. "Prewett...?" he asked, frowning. "Are they Mrs. Weasley's...?" "Her only brothers," said Lupin. "Moody said they were..." Harry trailed off. "Murdered by Death Eaters, yes." He said darkly, glancing over at the Slytherin table.  
  
"Lupin, Remus." Harry whirled his head around just in time to see an uneasy looking Lupin climb up on the stool to be Sorted into—  
  
"GRIFFINDOR!" The Griffindors cheered wildly. An immensely relieved looking Lupin staggered off towards the cheering table. "I was rather worried that a werewolf would only find home among Slytherins," explained adult Lupin, shrugging.  
  
Lupin wandered around, pointing out more old friends, and enemies, until – "James, Potter!" swaggered up to the front of the Great Hall and took his rightful place among the Griffindors.  
  
The Hat took what felt like an incredibly long time to sort "Pettigrew, Peter!" into Griffindor. As Peter scurried towards James and Sirius, Harry marveled at the idea that someone so cowardly had been placed in a House known for its bravery. "Choices, Harry..." Dumbledore's voice seemed to echo inside his brain. Lupin had fallen silent. He was still staring intently at the four soon-to-be Marauders as "Vance, Emmaline!" was Sorted into Ravenclaw. The scene began to dissolve.  
  
The Great Hall was again packed with people. Harry surmised that it was dinnertime with a quick glance at the enchanted ceiling. James and Sirius, still eleven years old, weren't paying any attention to the food in front of them. Instead, they were discussing their grandiose plans for a box they were cradling under the table. Harry peeped over Sirius's shoulder and identified a small crate packed with Dungbombs. Harry couldn't help snickering.  
  
"—no that won't work!" hissed James. "Of course it will." snapped Sirius. "We just need to keep them hidden long enough!" Pettigrew was staring at them both as if they were the most incredibly brilliant people he had ever met. He continually interjected excited squeaks and cries of "That's brilliant, James!" into the conversation.  
  
Remus wasn't eating at all. He was merely staring down at his hands and looking out the window so often he appeared to have developed a twitch. James and Sirius finally noticed Remus's odd behavior and stared at him. Remus apparently hadn't noticed the lull in conversation. He threw three more intense glances out the window before he noticed his friends staring at him and blushed. He was so pale and peaky looking that the pink tinge in his cheeks was barely visible.  
  
"All right, mate?" inquired James uneasily. "What are you looking for?" asked Sirius curiously, leaning over to see out the window. "Nothing!" said Lupin quickly. "I –um---have to go—visit my mum." he said nervously. "She's sick." "Are you sure it's not contagious?" asked James, staring warily at Lupin's pale complexion. "Yes...eh--goodbye!" Lupin managed to choke out before grabbing his books and fleeing the Hall.  
  
Adult Lupin shook his head sadly. "I thought that was pretty convincing at the time..."  
  
The three boys watched Lupin racing away. They looked quite bewildered. For a moment, no one spoke. "I have some waterproof fireworks," said James suddenly. "Ooh, that'd be good," replied Sirius, his eyes lighting up.  
  
AN: That was fun! I'll try to update as soon as possible...if anyone cares... 


	5. True Confessions of a Teenage Werewolf

AN: OMG, people reviewed my story. I am so excited! Next chapter...  
  
Harry marveled at the amount of trouble James and Sirius had managed to cause on just seven months. Already, they had single handedly lost 50 points for Griffindor, set fire to the common room, and gotten lost in the Forbidden Forest. Despite their refusal to do any homework whatsoever, they were still amazing adept in every single class.  
  
From the partially thawed snow on the grounds, Harry deduced that it was mid to late March. There were a few streaks of pink behind the setting sun as Harry and Lupin found themselves standing in the middle of the boy's dormitory.  
  
James, Sirius, and Peter were peeling off their extremely muddy robes and hanging them on their bedposts. "I can't believe McGonagall made us repaint the Quidditch pitch," grumbled Sirius. He twisted a heavily soaked sock and water splattered all over the floor.  
  
"In the rain. Without magic!" added James, in an equally irritated tone of voice. "She's our head of House, she's supposed to like us. It was only a few Stinkpellets..." James pulled out his wand and pointed to his dripping robes. "Scorgify." The mud vanished and he smiled in satisfaction at his clean, dry clothes.  
  
"Good idea, mate," said Sirius. He pulled out his own wand and followed James's example.  
  
"How did you do that?" inquired Peter, curiously. James demonstrated on one of his socks. "Scorgify," said Peter, waving his wand. He immediately let out a squeak of dismay as his robes caught on fire.  
  
"Whoops," snickered Sirius. He and James quickly pulled the robe of the bedpost and began stamping on it. The fire was soon extinguished but Peter's robe, now covered in muddy footprints, was dirtier than it had been before.  
  
Harry smiled and looked at Lupin, who he noticed was not smiling. The grin quickly faded from Harry's face. It was safe to assume that Lupin knew what was going to happen next, and the look on his face was look of apprehension. Harry guessed he was about to bear witness to some landmark in the history of the Marauders.  
  
The door to the room creaked open and Remus walked in. He was pale and trembling and had large, dark blue circles under his eyes. James, Sirius and Peter stared at him. A slow smile appeared on James's face. "Remus, mate, you look awful," said James. "Actually, we were hoping we could talk to you about that..." James dove under the bed and began rooting around.  
  
"How was detention?" asked Lupin in a rather shrill tone, apparently wanting to change the subject. James re-emerged with a large stack of books and dumped them all over his bed.  
  
"Wet," replied Sirius shrugging. "Sorry you missed it. But then you do miss an awful lot of school." Sirius picked up a book off the bed entitled "Werewolves: Friend or Fiends?"  
  
The remaining color drained from Remus's face as his eyes fell upon the book in Sirius hands. "L-Library books?" he said, his voice faltering slightly. "Since when have guys done your homework?" He laughed nervously.  
  
James flipped open a page of one of the books and began reading. "The werewolf appears as a normal human mostly of the time. Only during a full moon can a werewolf's true form be seen. Werewolves are extremely vicious creatures, and are a danger to both Muggles and wizards in their transformed states."  
  
Sirius continued, "Werewolves differ from true wolves in the following ways...blah, blah, blah..." he skipped down the page and continued. "A werewolf's biorhythm is heavily linked to the lunar cycle, and therefore they will often appear extremely pale and exhausted as the full moon waxes and wanes...blah, blah...transformations are extremely taxing on the werewolf..." Sirius snapped the book shut. Both he and James looked highly excited. Remus looked to be on the verge of tears.  
  
"I must admit we are awfully curious as to why you keep disappearing each month," said James.  
  
"One a month, every month," added Sirius. "In fact, we happened to come across a lunar chart..." Peter, who was crouching on all fours, began rooting around the book pile in an unmistakably rat-like fashion. He triumphantly produced a large sheet of parchment and handed it to Sirius. James and Sirius began rattling off the dates on the chart.  
  
"September 13th."  
  
"October 9th."  
  
"November 16th."  
  
December 12th."  
  
They paused when they reached March 15th and stared expectantly at Remus. "Is there something you may have neglected to tell us?" asked James in a tone that seemed surprisingly light, given the look on Remus's face.  
  
Remus looked back and forth between his friends. His lower lip was trembling violently. After a long pause, he burst into tears. James, Sirius, and Peter looked extremely surprised at this reaction, which perplexed Harry greatly. What reaction were they expecting? Remus clearly didn't find being a werewolf as exciting and entertaining as his friends did.  
  
"I'm-m s-sorry!" he sobbed, "I w-wasn't supposed to tell anyone and I d- didn't think you would w-want to be my friends anymore if y-you k-knew I was a m-monster." He began to cry even harder. "If you n-never want to talk to m-me again, I understand," He wailed.  
  
Harry gazed quickly at adult Lupin, who looked highly embarrassed.  
  
The Marauders, who had been shocked into silence by Remus's outburst, finally regained the power of speech and rushed over to comfort their sobbing friend.  
  
"We don't think you're a monster," said Sirius earnestly. "Of course we want to be you're friend," said James, who was still in a slight state of shock. "We do!" added Peter, nodding feverently. They grabbed Remus's shoulders and sat him down on the bed.  
  
After a few moments, Remus stopped crying. "Thank you," hiccupped Remus. "Why don't we go down to the kitchen and nick something?" suggested Sirius. "Good idea!" said Peter.  
  
They left the dormitory and headed down the stairs. Harry followed grudgingly, wishing the people in these memories could learn to stay put. After a quick trip to the kitchen, they headed back up to the dormitories, arms laden with sweets.  
  
"What's it like, being a werewolf?" asked Sirius. He seemed to be afraid to upset Remus, but was clearly dying of curiosity. Remus sighed. "Bad?" he volunteered. "Painful." He added in a quieter voice.  
  
"When did you get...you know..." James asked, his expression similar to Sirius's. "Six years ago," replied Remus softly. "I was five. My neighborhood is close to the woods. My parents told me not to go out at night, but I just...didn't listen..."  
  
"Do the teacher's know?" asked Peter, his eyes wide. "Yes," said Remus. "My parents couldn't believe it when Dumbledore said I could come to school. He said it was fine, as long as we took some precautions..."  
  
"Like what?" blurted out James. "Do they lock you up in the dungeons during the full moon?" "No...there's a passage behind the Whomping Willow that leads to the Shrieking Shack I go stay there all night," explained Remus.  
  
"The Shrieking Shack?" asked Sirius incredulously. "That really haunted building in Hogsmeade?"  
  
"It's not haunted," said Remus. "All that 'shrieking' is just—well—me, actually...it's sort of a confined space so I tend to...bite and scratch myself..." Peter turned a sickly shade of green. James and Sirius looked at the half-healed bruises and cuts all over Remus's arms and face and fell silent.  
  
"That's bloody awful..." sympathized Sirius. His face was getting blurry. Harry noticed the entire scene was drifting out of focus. Lupin remained silent, leaving Harry lost quietly in his own thoughts...  
  
AN: Geez, long chapter. Review! 


	6. Blood Ties

AN: Thanks to those of you who reviewed! It's true, my grammatical skills leave a lot to be desired . . . Anyway, onward with this kind of disturbing chapter. It deals with semi-mature themes. Perhaps I should up the rating. bursts into tears Poor Sirius....  
  
Harry was beginning to get a headache. He had never been stuck inside a Pensieve for so long. Lupin had grown increasingly silent as the memories had progressed, and Harry was feeling inexplicably guilty. He somehow felt that he was intruding on Sirius's life, even though Sirius was dead. Unfortunately, that thought made him feel even worse.  
  
Harry and Lupin were now inside one of the bedrooms in Number 12 Grimmuald Place. Sirius was sitting on a large, ornately carved bed with a dark wooden frame, deeply absorbed in a letter he was writing. The heavy, velvety, black curtains surrounding the bed were pinned up with thick silver clasps.  
  
Harry guessed that it must be summer, and the Sirius couldn't have been more than 12 or 13. There were a number of large, stately paintings on the dark green walls, but Sirius seemed to have covered them, and most of the walls, with various posters of Quidditch teams and a rock band called "The Green Goblins". There was a shiny racing broom propped up in the corner. Harry bent over and examined the broom. The words "Nimbus 600" glinted in gold lettering on the handle.  
  
Finally satisfied with whatever he was writing, Sirius jumped off and bounded out of the room so fast Harry had run to get up with him. Lupin followed behind them, moving reluctantly. Sirius leapt through the door to the living room and came to an abrupt halt.  
  
"Mum, have you seen Salazar?" asked Sirius. Harry decided it wasn't surprising that the Blacks had named their owl after the founder of the Slytherin House. "I need to send this," added Sirius, holding the letter aloft. Harry noticed the letter was addressed to James in very messy handwriting.  
  
Mrs. Black was sitting in a high-backed chair in the center of the room. Harry recognized her from the portrait, which currently hung in the front hall of the modern Grimmuald Place. She was still wearing the same hideous bonnet over her black hair and was staring at Sirius with her roving, slightly mad eyes. There were a number of open letters piled on her lap.  
  
"Why?" demanded Mrs. Black shrilly. "So you can send more letters to your filthy half-breed friends?!" She was clutching a letter in her pale, bony hands. For someone still quite young, she looked pale and withered, like a plant that hadn't gotten enough sun.  
  
"Have you been reading my mail?" said Sirius, the shocked look on his face quickly turning into a look of rage.  
  
"Half-bloods!" she shrieked, not answering Sirius's question. "Blood traitors! How can you associate with such filth? It's bad enough, being in Griffindor! Now you have to soil the family name even further—"  
  
"I can associate with whoever I want to!" yelled Sirius furiously. He stomped over to his mother and snatched the letters out of her hands. "These are mine!"  
  
Mrs. Black slapped Sirius hard across the face. He backed away slowly. "Wait until I tell your father what you've been up to!" she screeched, her eyes bulging slightly.  
  
"I hate you!" said Sirius venomously. "I HATE YOU! What family honor?! You're just a bunch of pure blood maniacs and I wish I had never—"  
  
Mrs. Black pulled her wand and shrieked out a curse. There was banging noise and Sirius fell backwards onto the ground, a streak of blood trickling down his cheek.  
  
"How dare you speak to me like that!" she screamed. "Go to your room! Don't come out until you can apologize for your behavior!"  
  
"Well than I guess I'm never coming out!" yelled Sirius furiously. He turned and ran out of the room, tears sparkling in his eyes.  
  
Harry was in shock. The Dursleys had always tried to make him miserable, but he couldn't imagine Uncle Vernon hitting him, especially not to the point where he was bleeding.  
  
Sirius was halfway down the dark hallway when Harry spotted a small, wrinkly figure step out in front of him, blocking his path. Kreacher was younger, but still hunched over. There was an evil grin on his tiny face.  
  
"No, supper for the Young Master tonight?" he inquired, cackling. "Pity, pity...You're breaking poor mistress's heart, such a little brat..."  
  
"Shut up, elf," growled Sirius. "Get out of my way!" Kreacher stepped aside and bowed low in a mocking fashion.  
  
"As you wish, Young Master," he replied, smirking.  
  
Sirius let out a frustrated growl and continued down the hall. He entered his room, slammed the door shut, and threw himself onto his bed, cursing loudly as he went. Sirius hadn't moved from that position when the scene once again began to dissolve.  
  
In the next memory Harry and Lupin found themselves back at Hogwarts, in the middle of what appeared to be Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall was standing in front of the classroom, looking much younger but still quite stiff and severe.  
  
"Transforming rabbits into hats is quite similar to transforming armadillos into slippers, but slightly more specific..." she explained curtly. "The wand motion is more of a half-oval than a regular circle...."  
  
As far as Harry could tell, James and Sirius weren't listening to a single thing she was saying. They were doodling on a piece of parchment and snickering loudly. Professor McGonagall was continually throwing disapproving glares in their direction, clearly hoping they would stop goofing off before she had to interrupt class and yell at them.  
  
Harry leaned over James shoulder and inspected the drawing that was apparently more engrossing than class. James was drawing an extremely sloppy sketch of a stick figure on a broomstick holding a figure labeled "Snivellus" upside down by his feet. Sirius was drawing what appeared to be a werewolf chewing on "Snivelly's" head. Adult Lupin looked at the drawing and frowned.  
  
"Mr. Potter! Mr. Black!" said Professor McGonagall, finally losing her patience. "Would you care to demonstrate?"  
  
Remus, who was sitting directly in front of his friends, looked up from his notes for the first time. Harry couldn't see how James and Sirius could possibly demonstrate whatever she wanted them to, but the two Marauders merely smiled.  
  
"Pedalus," they said together, pointing at their wands at the rabbits in front of them. They soon had two identical white bowler hats, which they placed on their heads. James and Sirius grinned broadly at Professor McGonagall.  
  
"Excellent job," she said in an extremely irritated tone. "Everyone else, please follow their example."  
  
"Don't we get any points?" complained James.  
  
"No," she replied, growing more irritated as the rest of the third years failed to properly transfigure their hats.  
  
Snape was glaring at them, muttering something about arrogant fools under his breath. Harry noticed his parchment was covered with notes, but his bowler hat was still covered with fur.  
  
"Severus was never particularly good in Transfiguration," explained Lupin, following Harry's gaze. "However, he did excel in Defense Against the Dark Arts. And Potions, obviously. I expect that could be attributed to his extensive knowledge of the Dark Arts themselves..."  
  
"Mr. Pettigrew!" said McGonagall sharply. "What are you doing? I said a half-oval, not a jabbing motion." Harry smiled grimly as Peter shrunk in his chair, trying to appear insignificant. "Honestly, where is your head boy?" she scolded as Pettigrew's bowler hat, which had six legs, jumped off the table and scurried across the room...  
  
AN: Haha, this is fun. What other memories should I do? 


	7. Quidditch

AN: Thanks to those who reviewed! Yay! OK, I decided to make James a Chaser in this one. I know, I know, James was a Seeker in the SS movie...but people keep saying that JKR said he was a Chaser so I'm going to go with that assumption. Ahem...  
  
Harry gasped as James pulled out of a sharp dive and hurtled straight upwards. The Slytherin Chaser above him barely had time to react as James grabbed the Quaffle off of him and zoomed towards the other side of the field.  
  
Harry and Lupin were sitting next to Sirius, Remus, and Peter amidst a crowd of highly excited Griffindors. All three of them leapt to their feet and cheered wildly as James hurled the Quaffle into the goalpost, past the head of an extremely disgruntled Slytherin Keeper. Harry recognized Lucius Malfoy for a third time. Malfoy scowled as the Griffindor section exploded with cheers and several "Oh!'s" as James yelled exuberantly and did number of complicated loops in the air.  
  
Harry couldn't help being impressed as well. James really was a good Quidditch player. Despite the fact that he did seem to be transforming quickly into the arrogant jerk Harry had seen in Snape's memory last year, he somehow felt a sense of pride. He felt a tiny bit closer to the impossibly distant ghost that was his father.  
  
"GRIFFINDOR SCORES!" boomed the announcer. "230 TO 40!" James had scored again. He seemed to be the main attraction of the game. People hardly noticed when the Slytherin Seeker caught the snitch, possibly because the victory still decisively belonged to Griffindor.  
  
"What year is this?" Harry asked Lupin curiously.  
  
"Third year, if I'm not mistaken," replied Lupin. James's friends had raced over to congratulate him after the two teams had shaken hands, but Harry and Lupin were following them at a leisurely pace. After seeing so many memories, the novelty had worn off slightly and Harry had started resisting the urge to sprint around constantly.  
  
A gang of Slytherins, including Snape, had walked over to the pitch to console their team. They stood next to Lucius and glared at the celebrating Griffindors, James in particular. The Slytherins were conversing quietly. Lucius leaned over and whispered something at the crowd of third years, who grinned and looked at Snape expectantly. Snape was looking extremely apprehensive. Harry strolled over to the Slytherins and listened to their conversation.  
  
"Come on, Severus," whined Bellatrix. "You hate Potter. You're the best at curses. Right guys?" The crowd around them nodded in agreement. Harry had the vague idea that they were just trying to stay out of trouble. Snape turned towards the Maruaders. His eyes narrowed in intense dislike when they fell upon James, which seemed to set his resolve. He walked towards James. The rest of the Slytherins followed a short distance behind him, grinning maliciously.  
  
"Nice game, Potter," hissed Snape in a silky tone. "I especially enjoyed all those times you plummeted downward. Of course, it was terribly disappointing when you didn't hit the ground. It's really not surprising how often you fly downwards, I imagine that broom has an extremely difficult time keeping your swollen head in the air...."  
  
"At least I can ride a broom, Snivellus," snapped James. Snape scowled. The two groups of third years were now slightly spread out, as if they were meeting on the battlefield.  
  
"You think you're so great, Potter, just because you can toss a stupid ball through a hoop...swaggering around like you own the school..." continued Snape hatefully.  
  
"Shut up, Snivellus," said Sirius. He seemed to be sizing up the crowd in front of him. A gang of older Slytherins, including Malfoy, was surveying the scene with immense satisfaction.  
  
"Make me," replied Snape icily.  
  
"Maybe I will," growled James, pulling his wand out and pointing it menacingly at Snape. Snape decided not to wait and see whether or not James would follow through with his threat.  
  
"Serpensortia!" yelled Snape. A large angry looking snake was advancing towards James. Something stirred in Harry's memory.  
  
"Hey!" he said suddenly. "Snape told Malfoy to use that curse on me when we were in dueling club second year!"  
  
"I think Severus still feels that there are a great number of unresolved issues between himself and James," said Lupin, laughing.  
  
"He acts like I bullied him in school," complained Harry. "He's always hated me. I never did anything to him." Snape was smiling in satisfaction as the snake advanced on James. Remus stepped forward and vanished the snake. The Slytherins looked highly disappointed.  
  
"He sees your father in you, Harry," said Lupin. "Both the good and the bad. It must be quite frustrating for him. He's always hated your father, but it's hard to wish ill will upon someone who died so tragically. I assume he wishes he could just hate your father's memory without feeling guilty, so he has to settle for hating you instead."  
  
Pandemonium had broken out amongst the two conflicting groups on the Quidditch pitch. Curses were flying in every direction as a few teachers raced onto the field to break up the conflict.  
  
"Well, I'm not apologizing to Snape for anything," insisted Harry, but a spasm of guilt flitted across his face.  
  
"We were awful to him, I know," sighed Lupin.  
  
"You weren't nearly as bad as James and Sirius," said Harry miserably.  
  
"I'm in no way excusable from blame," said Lupin firmly. "Don't worry, he hates me, too," he added, smiling.  
  
Professor McGonagall was pulling James and Sirius towards the castle by their necks, shrieking about detentions and inexcusable behavior. Sirius was stumbling along, looking confused and making wild gestures towards his ears. The geraniums growing out of his ears probably made hearing McGonagall quite difficult. Most of James's body, which had been incapacitated by what seemed to be a Jelly-Legs Jinx, was dragging on the ground and James was looking disoriented. The scene faded as the rest of the dueling students were dragged off the field.  
  
They were standing in the hallway next to a 13 year old Snape. It was nearly sunset. Snape was peering cautiously around a suit of armor as two figures slipped quietly out onto the grounds. They were conversing in low, but polite tones.  
  
"I didn't know you liked Danten," said 13 year old Remus in surprise.  
  
"Why not?" asked Madam Pomfrey, laughing. "I've always loved poetry, and he's one of the best writers of our age..."  
  
Snape ducked down as they passed him. He remerged as soon as the door closed with a soft thud and moved to follow Remus and Madam Pomfrey. Before his hand reached the door knob, he was interrupted.  
  
"Snivelly, Snivelly, Snivelly," said Sirius shaking his head. He was leaning casually against the wall on the opposite side of the hall. "Where do you think you're going?"  
  
"I'm going to pay Lupin a visit," Snape sneered in reply. "He's always disappearing, I'd think you'd be curious as well..."  
  
"Really?" asked Sirius, smirking. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get Remus in trouble."  
  
"In trouble for what?" asked Snape quickly, apparently hoping he could trick a confession out of Sirius.  
  
Sirius grinned mischievously. "Really, I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about," he said, his eyes glinting. "But I do know that if you want to follow Remus you simply have to take the secret passage under the Whomping Willow."  
  
"What secret passage?" demanded Snape. "How am I supposed to get past that bloody tree?"  
  
"There's a knot under the branches," explained Sirius. "Just give it a prod with a long stick, it freezes all the branches."  
  
"Why are you telling me this?" asked Snape suspiciously.  
  
"Snivelly!" said Sirius in mock outrage. "Don't you trust me? I thought we were friends!"  
  
Snape made no reply. He glanced quickly at the door. He seemed to be struggling internally. Trusting Sirius was obviously a bad idea, but there was also the tempting option of satiating his curiosity.  
  
Sirius grinned wickedly. "Have a nice night, Snivelly." He turned and headed down the hall, snickering. Snape stared intensely at the doorknob. Finally, his curiosity won out. He wrenched open one of the doors and slipped outside.  
  
Lupin made a few disapproving tutting noises under his breath.  
  
AN: Ooh, a cliffhanger. I know no one has ANY idea what's going to happen next, lol. 


	8. Practical Jokes

AN: Hi everybody (and reviewers)! On that subject, I agree with Cecilia Orechio. Lupin is kind of detached. He just stands there and occasionally makes comments. I don't know what else to make him do. Lupin has always struck me as a calm, emotionally reserved guy and I'm not sure how to involve him more. I'm going to do some of Lupin's memories later, I'll try to involve him more then. How about this: Harry is bewildered when Lupin suddenly starts break-dancing! Hehe. No? Hmm...Anyways, thanks for reviewing! You guys have good ideas.   
  
"How can you let him stay here?!" sputtered Snape in a furious voice. "He's—he's a—"  
  
"I assure you, Severus, we are all aware of Remus's condition," said Dumbledore in a calm voice. "Ah, Sirius, please come in."  
  
Sirius was standing at the door to Dumbledore's office, looking guilty. He edged into the room and sat down next to Snape. He threw a faint smile at James, but James merely frowned in return. Sirius sunk down in his chair.  
  
"Condition?!" said Snape incredulously. "You make it sound like he has Magical Measles! He's a WEREWOLF! He could have killed me!"  
  
"I know," said Dumbledore quietly. "I'm sure you are aware that you should not have been on the grounds tonight—" Snape opened his mouth to protest but Dumbledore held up his hand for silence.  
  
"We have taken many precautions to make sure Remus does not endanger any of his fellow students during his time at Hogwarts. No student is supposed to know how to get past the Whomping Willow. If I understand correctly, you didn't stumble across that information by accident." Dumbledore turned towards Sirius, frowning. "Mr. Black, do you know how Severus learned how to get past the Whomping Willow?" he inquired.  
  
"Because, I, um—told him," answered Sirius in a small voice. . "And why would you do such a thing?" asked Dumbledore gravely.  
  
"I—I don't know." Sirius hung his head.  
  
Dumbledore stared intently at him. His eyes were lacking their familiar twinkle. "I'm deeply disappointed in you, Sirius. You have shown incredible disregard for the both the safety and trust of your friends and classmates. If not for the actions of your friend Mr. Potter, Severus could have could have been killed tonight—or worse. You will serve detention with Mr. Filch every night for the next three weeks."  
  
Sirius nodded slowly. "Yes, sir," he said weakly. Snape's upper lip was curling in disgust. He looked back and forth between James and Sirius, clearly unable to decide which one he loathed more.  
  
"To whom Remus chooses to divulge his secret is his own personal choice," said Dumbledore, focusing his attention on Snape. "However, I must ask that you keep this information quiet for the duration of your stay at Hogwarts, Severus." Snape looked incensed.  
  
"Yes, Headmaster," he muttered, the rage in his voice barely contained.  
  
"You may all report back to your common rooms. Good evening to you all." Dumbledore stood up from his desk and extended his hand. The door clicked magically open and the three boys filed out. Snape stomped wordlessly past James and Sirius, still fuming.  
  
James and Sirius walked slowly down the circular steps.  
  
"What in the bleeding hell were you thinking mate?" demanded James.  
  
Sirius ran his hand nervously through his shaggy black hair. "I don't—I mean I didn't want—It was just a joke..." he stammered.  
  
"Oh right, it was bleeding hilarious!" James shook his head. "I hate Snivelly just as much as the next bloke, but—you—you could have killed him! What if Lupin had bitten him? He could have been expelled—or thrown in Azkaban—or—"  
  
"I'm sorry!" yelled Sirius suddenly. He immediately dropped his voice back to a normal conversational level. "I didn't want to kill him or—anything. I just thought it would be funny if he got a little—you know—scare." Sirius obviously realized how ridiculous him plan sounded out loud because he fell silent. "Anyway, thanks for stopping him mate..."  
  
Harry couldn't imagine the father he had seen so far in Sirius's memories missing an opportunity to gloat, but James simply continued to shake his head silently.  
  
"I think you owe Remus an apology," James said quietly.  
  
Neither James nor Sirius spoke until they reached the common room. Harry took the opportunity to question Lupin some more.  
  
"How did the apology go?" asked Harry curiously. The scene was starting to fade. Lupin snorted.  
  
"I—eh—refused to speak to him for a week," Lupin responded, sounding a little guilty.  
  
"I can't believe Sirius would do something so stupid!" marveled Harry. He paused for a moment and considered all of the things he had just seen inside the Pensieve. "Actually, yes I can..." he said. Harry recalled a second hand account of the events that had just transpired from his own third year, nut it just wasn't the same.  
  
"I've told you, we were young and foolish," chuckled Lupin. He paused and said in a more serious tone: "But your father was always did the right thing when it really counted. If you take anything from this experience, try to remember that. People do change as they mature, but some things remain constant."  
  
"I know, I know," said Harry. Was he going to change? What about his friends? Would they always be there for him, or...  
  
"Speaking of, where is Dumbledore? Shouldn't he be back by now?" asked Harry, trying to push nagging doubts about an uncertain future out of his mind.  
  
"I have no idea," responded Lupin. "He must have been delayed on his mission."  
  
"What mission?" asked Harry hopefully.  
  
Lupin smiled at his curiosity. "I promise Harry, you can join the Order the minute you graduate from school."  
  
"Great," muttered Harry, surprised as the bitterness in his own voice. "Then I can make a will, too. It's probably best to get my affairs in order now, rather then after Voldemort kills me..."  
  
"Harry, the members of the Order are watching out for you. We won't let anything happen to you. You know that, right?" said Lupin in a concerned voice. Harry found the scenario of nothing bad happening to him highly unlikely.  
  
"Yes, I'm sure everything will be fine," Harry lied.  
  
"...and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives..."whispered a voice in the back of Harry's mind.  
  
AN: Ah, this chapter is kind of short. I just wanted to throw it up b/c I'm going away for a few days... The next one will be longer, I promise! 


	9. Mischief Managed

AN: Hey guys, I'm back! In response to reviewers, I'm finally going to attempt some Animagus memories in this super large economy sized chapter. PS: Calm down people! There will be absolutely NO breakdancing, I promise. Hehe...  
  
"What is that stuff?" inquired Remus, leaning over a rapidly boiling cauldron full of what looked like thick purple porridge.  
  
Harry and Lupin were standing in the boy's dormitory. James, Sirius, and Peter were huddled over a cauldron, looking rather diabolical in there excitement. A book was lying open faced on the floor next to them. Peter pulled the book towards himself and attempted to answer Remus's question.  
  
"It's sof-in-anin...aninanimus—" his brow furrowed in concentration.  
  
"Sophanimus concoction," interrupted Sirius. He was prodding the fire underneath the cauldron with his wand, cheerfully sending up bright blue flames at least 2 feet higher than what was probably necessary.  
  
"It allows you to take on the mind of the animal you're going to turn into," explained James. He was stirring the potion with a large wooden ladle.  
  
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" asked Remus, eyeing the potion warily.  
  
"Of course it is!" said James dismissively. "Who wants to go first?" He lifted a spoonful out of the cauldron. Half of it fell out on the way up, splattering him with sticky purple goop. "Peter?" He extended the spoon towards Peter, smiling winningly. Pettigrew recoiled slightly.  
  
"Make Sirius try it," insisted Peter, wrinkling his nose.  
  
"Why do I have to drink it first?" asked Sirius defensively. "It smells like old socks."  
  
"The entire dorm has smelled like old socks for a week, ever since you started making that glop," pointed out Remus. "It's starting to creep out into the hall."  
  
"Is this part of the Animagus process?" Harry asked, turning towards Lupin.  
  
"Yes. This was one of the later components. They couldn't figure out the more complicated potions and charms until fifth year. But still—" Lupin wandered over to a pile of books with titles such as: "The Science of Animal Transmogrification Sorcery" and "Man or Mouse? The History of Animagi". "An immensely complex process, as you know." He took on a very Hermoine like tone, "If they put half this much effort into their homework, well—not that they ever did their homework—they would have been at the top of the class! Actually, for the most part, they already were ..."  
  
"The last time you made me 'try it first' I ended up with a tail we couldn't get rid of for three weeks," whined Peter.  
  
"Well perhaps if you'd actually contributed something to ANY of the potions we've made, maybe—" began James.  
  
"I helped steal all the ingredients!" cried Peter insistently.  
  
"Oh, yeah," said Sirius. "All right, we'll all try it at the same time." James began spooning it into small silver beakers.  
  
"Bottoms up," said James. All three of them threw their heads back and chugged down the gelatinous goop.  
  
"Eww..." muttered Harry.  
  
"I'm astounded that they managed to brew and drink a potion made entirely of stolen ingredients...," said Lupin, shaking his head.  
  
"We made Polyjuice Potion in the girl's bathroom second year," said Harry, without thinking.  
  
"You made Polyjuice Potionin second year?!" said Lupin in disbelief. "How-- why?"  
  
"Well, Hermoine made it. And it's kind of a long story. Ron and I just stole the ingredients."  
  
"From Snape, I assume?" asked Lupin, raising an eyebrow. "Well, it's safe to say your father would have been pleased..."  
  
Harry didn't quite know how to respond. He was suddenly glad Lupin didn't have the authority to assign detentions anymore.  
  
James, Sirius, and Peter were now stumbling around the room, looking disoriented. Remus stared at them, looking concerned.  
  
"Maybe we should all go to the infirmary...," he said nervously, as James stumbled over to a wall, banged into it, and fell backwards onto the floor.  
  
Suddenly, all three looked quite alert. Peter dove headfirst under the bed, squeaking loudly. Sirius, who was crouched down on all fours, began running around the room, barking frantically. James got up, looked at the wall, stamped his foot, and charged headfirst into it. He fell to the ground, looked dazed for a moment, and then repeated the process.  
  
Remus stared at them all, jaw agape. He had to jump backwards onto the bed to avoid being bowled over by Sirius, who was making another pass around the room, still barking madly. Remus finally burst out laughing at his friends ridiculous antics. Harry couldn't help but laugh as well. He had only seen a few things in his life that were more absurd than what he was witnessing right now.  
  
"You should have seen them trying to transfigure each other," said Lupin, chuckling. "We weren't supposed to start human transfiguration until sixth year. I spent half my life dragging them to the infirmary with antlers growing out of their ears..."  
  
Meanwhile, James had given up on his battle with the wall and was bounding about the room, leaping with surprising agility over trunks, books, and anything else in his way. Remus barely had time to grab him around the ankles before he leapt right out the window.  
  
"Come on!" cried Remus, stamping his foot in frustration. James leapt away from him, knocking over a tall candelabra. "I can't baby-sit you all night! I have to write a History of Magic essay!" None of his friends seemed to be listening. Sirius was now running in a circle at a dizzying pace, chasing his nonexistent tail. Remus pulled out his wand and magically sealed all the doors and windows.  
  
"I'm going to write my essay now," he said loudly. He wrestled a quill off of Peter, who was nibbling on Remus's schoolbag with his front teeth. Peter squealed and ran under James's bed. Remus plopped himself on his own bed, grumbling. He pulled out his essay and began to write. After about five minutes, the potion seemed to be wearing off. The three Marauders collapsed on the floor in exhaustion.  
  
"That—was—odd," panted James. He was lying spread eagle on the ground, his chest heaving.  
  
"I—thought—it was—neat," gasped Sirius, attempting to sit up but falling back down again.  
  
Peter rolled out from under the bed and lay motionless on the floor, clutching a stitch in his side. "I think—I'm dying—" he wheezed.  
  
"What are we going to do with the leftover potion?" asked James, finally managing to drag himself to his feet. Apparently, he was in the best shape.  
  
"I don't know." Sirius turned his head and looked at the cauldron of Sophanimus Concoction. Miraculously, neither James nor Sirius had managed to knock it over. "We could feed it to the Slytherins at breakfast," he suggested. "What do you think, Remus?"  
  
Remus looked surprised. 'That's not—well you—get in trouble—I suppose it was pretty entertaining to watch...," he said finally. James and Sirius grinned wickedly. The scene began to melt away. When it re-solidified, Harry and Lupin were standing next to the door at the base of the North tower. Apperantly, Harry was not going to get to see the effects Sophanimus Concontion would have on the Slytherin population.  
  
"Did they really poison all the Slytherins in the morning?" Harry asked Lupin.  
  
"They most certainly did. Imagine James and Sirius not going through with a plan to terrorize their fellow classmates!" he said in mock outrage. "It would have been a tragedy, I'm sure. Sirius set of fireworks and James slipped around the table in his cloak while everyone was distracted."  
  
"And...?"  
  
"The Great Hall was filled with flapping, screeching, howling, hissing, and bleating Slytherins..." Harry couldn't help grinning a little bit.  
  
"Move your foot!" hissed a voice that sounded like James.  
  
"I can't move my foot, your leg is in the way!"  
  
"Move over, my elbow is sticking out!" There was a series of shuffling sounds. Harry looked wildly around in the dark, but saw no one. The door next to them suddenly creaked open. Harry barely had time to slip out the door before it shut again. Lupin calmly walked through the closed door and stood behind him. The grounds outside were bathed in silvery moonlight. A wordless acknowledgement seemed to pass between Harry and Lupin, and they followed the rustling sound of the grass towards the Whomping Willow. Harry noticed Lupin's gaze flitting nervously up at the full moon at regular intervals.  
  
"Er—Profes—I mean—well, Professor Lupin are you all right?" inquired Harry in a concerned voice.  
  
"Yes," he said quickly. "And you don't have to call me Professor, Harry. I'm not your teacher anymore," he added, sounding a little sad.  
  
"Do you know what year this is?" asked Harry, vainly attempting to distract Lupin.  
  
"No," he replied, still looking extremely edgy and uncomfortable. "Fifth, sixth, seventh year..." The was a long silence.  
  
"I guess you don't get to go on many casual, moonlit strolls," said Harry in a careful voice, jolting Lupin out of his nervous daze.  
  
Lupin gave a small smile, finally becoming aware of his own slightly odd behavior. "I suppose I don't." He looked up and gazed somberly at the full moon. After a few moments, he looked away, shuddering. Harry pretended not to notice.  
  
They finally reached the base of the Whomping Willow, which began flailing its branches angrily. The Invisibilty Cloak tumbled to the ground, revealing James, Sirius, and Peter. James and Sirius stared expectantly at Peter.  
  
"Come on, Wormtail," said Sirius impatiently. "We've been through this plenty of times already."  
  
"I'm trying, hold your hippogriffs!" Peter screwed up his face in concentration. James rolled his eyes. Finally, Peter managed to transform. He slipped under a particularly furiously waving branch and prodded the knot with a tiny paw. The tree froze. James and Sirius transformed effortlessly and followed Wormtail into the passage under the tree. Harry and Lupin trailed along behind them. Harry stared at Prongs, astounded at how closely the animal resembled his own Patronus.  
  
Sirius opened the door the Shrieking Shack with a paw. The door swung open, revealing a rather mean looking werewolf. Hackles raised, werewolf-Lupin emitted a low growling noise when he first saw them but then seemed to calm down. James led the odd-looking band of Griffindors out of the front door of the Shrieking Shack, into Hogsmeade. The werewolf let out a long howl when he first glimpsed the full moon. Padfoot and Prongs stood on either side of him in and steered him into the woods in a crude flanking maneuver. Wormtail scrambled along beside them.  
  
Harry noticed that the Marauders didn't seem to have a definite idea of where they were going. They were cavorting about the grounds, pausing occasionally to examine things or sniff the air.  
  
"They—er—don't seem to be going anywhere—specific," observed Harry.  
  
"I don't think we were trying to at this point," said Lupin thoughtfully. "We didn't actually venture outside the Shack until sometime in February, and..." He looked around. "It's probably April or May right now."  
  
"What happened to 'planning next month's adventure'?" asked Harry.  
  
"We didn't actually have any idea of where we were going until sixth year. The grounds are rather large. Mostly we just wandered around like the idiots we were," Lupin explained casually. "When we finally got our bearings, we ended up writing the Marauder's Map."  
  
The woods were beginning to thin. The Marauders were now closer to the road then they had been so far during the entire night. A few houses, all facing the road, were situated on the hilltop they were now ascending towards. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs reached the top of the hill and walked down the main road. They were almost within the very heart of Hogsmeade, near to the stores Hogwarts students tended to frequent. Suddenly, the door to the Three Broomsticks burst open.  
  
"Out, out, out!" shrieked a young woman in a pair of familiar turquoise heels. "We closed an hour ago!" A much younger Mundungus Fletcher practically rolled out of the bar and sat on the ground in the middle of the street.  
  
"Come on then, love," he babbled, his speech severely slurred. "One more round of Wirefisky...I mean Firewhisky..."  
  
"No!" Madam Rosmerta continued shrilly, "If you want to drink all night and behave like an idiot, go to the Hog's Head!"  
  
"Well, I would, but I got kicked out and I don't think—" protested Mundungus. Madam Rosmerta let out a shriek of rage and slammed the door in his face. Mundungus slowly climbed to his feet and began stumbling down the road, swaying from side to side and singing obnoxiously.  
  
"I boooought me love a Draaaagonnn'ss eeeeegg, with a sheeeeell so gooollld!!" he wailed.  
  
The Marauders were standing a short distance down the road. Mundungus didn't seem to notice them. Werewolf-Lupin suddenly sniffed the air and emitted a low growl. Padfoot and Prongs moved closer to him, attempting to him by his shoulders and force him off the road. Mundungus was now dangerously close to them. Suddenly, the werewolf bounded forward, slipping out from between his friends. He hurtled towards Mundungus, snarling in a way that made the hair on the back of Harry's neck prickle. Harry's heart was pounding in his chest.  
  
Sirius and James followed frantically behind the werewolf. Sirius grabbed Lupin by the neck, and they both toppled into the ditch on the other side of the road. Mundungus paused and looked wildly around. Seeing nothing, he continued stumbling along. Werewolf- Lupin threw Sirius off and attempted to climb back onto the road, but James aimed a kick at his chest which sent him tumbling backwards. Harry winced, his heart still fluttering. He glanced at the human Lupin standing next to him. Lupin was absorbed in watching James and Sirius beat the crap out of his younger self. Harry noticed Lupin's hand was unconsciously resting on his ribs, right where James had kicked him 20 or more years ago.  
  
AN: A few 'near misses'. I hope you guys liked this chapter! R&R. 


	10. Charmed I'm Sure

AN: Ahh, this chapter was hard to write for some reason. After this I'm going to try and do the original Order of the Phoenix. That should be interesting...  
  
Warm beams of crisp autumn sunlight cascaded through the windows of the Great Hall, falling on crowds of chattering students. Harry was particularly absorbed in the conversation of four sixth year Griffindors.  
  
"Are you sure you want to join that...particular club?" inquired 16 year old Lupin, raising an eyebrow. He stared at the flyer James had handed him a moment earlier.  
  
"Yes," replied James firmly, helping himself to some pumpkin juice. Harry and Lupin were standing behind James and Sirius. They had originally materialized in the middle of the table, but Harry had been creeped out by this and had shuffled to a more comfortable position.  
  
"What club are you joining?" asked Peter curiously.  
  
"Charms Club," said James in a calm voice. Sirius, who had been nodding and smiling suggestively at a blushing girl at the Ravenclaw table, took a gulp of pumpkin juice and choked on it.  
  
"Charms Club?" he said, looking as though he was going to topple out of his chair at any moment. "What? Why? CHARMS CLUB?" A few people looked at him.  
  
"Isn't that for girls?" asked Peter, looking hesitant.  
  
"Actually, it's open to everyone," said Lupin, scanning the flyer.  
  
"That's just a formality!" cried Sirius, still horrified. "It's a GIRLS club. Do you know what they do in Charms Club? Alyssa told me about it. Last week they make little glass unicorns dance across their desks!"  
  
"Lily's in Charms Club," said James dreamily. He glanced at a red haired girl at the end of the table and smiled stupidly. Lily scowled.  
  
"Lily's a girl!" said Sirius in dismay. "Anyway, enough with bloody Lily! She hates you, remember?" James turned away from Lily and looked at Sirius with a very resolved face.  
  
"If I join Charms Club, she'll see how charming, sensitive and considerate I am," he explained in a pleased tone of voice.  
  
"Whoever said you were charming, sensitive and considerate?" demanded Sirius, smirking. James ignored him.  
  
"Anyway, I have to go sign up. Later." James took a final swig of pumpkin juice and raced off, clutching his schoolbag over one shoulder. Sirius buried his face in his hands melodramatically.  
  
"My best mate! Joining Charms Club!" he lamented. "I never thought I'd see the day!"  
  
"I don't want to join Charms Club," said Peter miserably.  
  
"You don't have to do everything James does," snapped Sirius. Peter fell silent, looking slightly hurt. Harry stared at Wormtail. He hated him. This was the man who had betrayed every friend he had ever known. He had betrayed Harry's parents to their death. Still, as Harry stared at him, a tiny part of him was filled with overwhelming pity. Pettigrew was barely older than Harry right now. Lupin noticed Harry looking at Wormtail.  
  
"William Blake once said: 'It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend'," said Adult Lupin quietly.  
  
"Do you think you'll ever be able to forgive him?" asked Harry sadly.  
  
Lupin was silently for a moment. "I...I don't know..."  
  
There was another pause. Could he, Harry, ever forgive Pettigrew? Harry had saved his life last year. Wormtail had helped bring Voldemort back to life. Would Sirius be alive today if Pettigrew had died that night in the Shrieking Shack? Life was so confusing sometimes...  
  
Sirius was still complaining in a loud voice. "When is he going to find the time to practice stupid charms?" he demanded.  
  
"You seem to find the time to snog half the girls in the school every night," Lupin pointed out lightly.  
  
"I think you're exaggerating," said Sirius defensively.  
  
Lupin began rattling off names. "Corby Abbott—Ravenclaw, Daralis Lovegood—Ravenclaw, Aubrianna Mayes—Hufflepuff, Marta Afton—Griffindor, Berenice Mattox—also Griffindor—"  
  
"Tavia Tatum—Hufflepuff, Ella Kolton—Hufflepuff" added Peter. "Florence Spinnet—Griffindor, Missy—"  
  
"All right, all right!" yelled Sirius. He smiled. "I can't help it if girls are all over me."  
  
Lupin snorted. "Last week, you cursed Bertha Jorkins because she found you and Florence snogging behind the greenhouse."  
  
"That was a defense mechanism," insisted Sirus. "She's such a busybody! Besides, I think she was just jealous."  
  
Harry had a sudden vision of 16-year-old Sirius snogging some girl while he and Cho sat at a table nearby in Madame Puddifoots. He wondered if Sirius could have given him some advice on preventing Cho from bursting into tears every time they talked. He realized suddenly that he would never know. The scene changed.  
  
They were in the middle of a bustling hallway. Students were moving along in small groups, laughing and gossiping. The Marauders were moving down the center of the hallway. People seemed to be giving them a wide berth as they were walking.  
  
"I'll see you after Divination," said Lupin, parting from his friends.  
  
"I wish we didn't have to take Divination," muttered Sirius.  
  
"You'd rather take Arithmancy?" inquired James.  
  
"Ugh, of course not," replied Sirius. "All those charts? Eww."  
  
"Hermoine loves Arithmancy," remarked Harry.  
  
"It's a rather interesting subject," said Lupin thoughtfully. "I never took Divination. I suppose I was worried someone would find out about "  
  
"I really don't think you were in much danger of that," Harry snickered. "Divination is kind of a joke, at least it is the way Professor Trelawney teaches it. Her fortune telling abilities aren't very reliable. She mostly makes vague references to doom and gloom and tries to sound spooky." Harry lowered his glasses and waved his hands around. "Those who don't do their homework will get eaten by a draaaaagon! Whooo!" He crooned.  
  
"I see..." said Lupin. "Well, I know James and Sirius never took their Professor seriously. Aisling or something I believe. However, Sirius did mentioned something about a 'Grim' and chasing superstitious third years down the corridors fifth year, though."  
  
"Hey, James!" A tall, sandy haired boy Harry didn't recognize was hollering to the Marauders from across the hall. "How was Charms Club?" He was smirking. "Did you summon ribbons into each other's hair?" A few people around him snickered. Furious, Sirius whipped out his wand.  
  
"If you're not going to curse him, I am," growled Sirius.  
  
"No, it's all right," replied James calmly, extending his arm to block Sirius's wand. "Is that why your girlfriend says you still sleep with your baby blanket?" he said in a louder voice. The tall boy flushed and stalked off quickly as the students in the hall laughed.  
  
"Wow, Prongs," said Young Lupin, looking deeply shocked. "That was—mature."  
  
"Don't say anything," warned Sirius. "It might be contagious."  
  
Harry was impressed.  
  
Number 12 Grimmauld Place was bathed in darkness. Harry squinted through the blackness at the walls of Sirius's bedroom. The posters on the walls had been taken down, probably recently, for there were large outlines on the dusty walls. Sirius was perched, motionless on the top of his school trunk. He was staring intensely at the door to his room, and seemed to be contemplating something. He was clenching his wand in a tense hand, as if he expected to be attacked any moment, and his broomstick in the other. Finally, Sirius stood up. He muttered a spell as quietly as possible. He carefully pushed open his bedroom door, his trunk now floating a few inches above the floor behind him.  
  
"Going somewhere?" hissed a voice. A teenage boy with cropped black hair was standing in the middle of the hallway. He had smooth, pale skin and the handsome features that seemed to have graced the entire Black family. Sirius let a stream of expletives.  
  
"Bugger off, Regelus," said Sirius through clenched teeth. "I'm getting out of this hellhole."  
  
"You wait a month before unpacking your trunk every year. You don't actually expect me to believe you're leaving this time."  
  
"Things are different this time," replied Sirius coolly, raising his wand. Regelus narrowed his eyes.  
  
"Where will you go?" he demanded in an irate tone. His eyes darted towards the door at the end of the hall.  
  
"I don't know," said Sirius, his voice shaking with suppressed rage. "I don't care. Anywhere. Anywhere is better than HERE!"  
  
Regelus was silent for a moment. He suddenly took a deep breath and opened his mouth wide. "MU—" he began, but Sirius was too quick for him. He darted forward and aimed his wand squarely between his younger brother's eyes.  
  
"One more word and I'll curse you in the middle of next week," interrupted Sirius in a dangerous voice. "I'm going now." He grabbed his broomstick. Regelus made a sudden desperate dash towards his parents' room. There was a bang and a flash of light, and suddenly a tiny black mouse was scurrying down the hall. Sirius smiled wickedly, but the smile quickly faded from his face when there was a loud shriek from his mother's room.  
  
"WHAT'S GOING ON?!"  
  
Sirius swore loudly and sprinted down the hall and out the door. He tied his trunk to his broomstick and leapt on. He floated in the middle of the lawn, taking one last glance at the door.  
  
Harry remembered a somewhat familiar scene, two years ago, as he attempted to leave Privet Drive. He dearly wished he could have turned Dudley into a rodent before he left.  
  
"I hope James is still up," he muttered as he zoomed off into the night.  
  
AN: Next up, James and Lily go on a date. Sorry for all you people who are sick of J/L stories, I promise it will consist mostly of Sirius "helping" his dear friend's date go smoothly. Heh heh... 


	11. Gifts and Curses

**AN:** Reviews are awesome! Here's the next "UPDATEUPDATE" lol. Please review my sister's story, _Living in Oblivion, _by _LaxGoalie_. Please review it! It's really funny. Thanks a bunch!  
  
Harry and adult Lupin followed Sirius, Remus, and Peter as they inched along the back wall of the Three Broomsticks. Sirius was staring intently through the large, noisy crowd at a young couple across the room. Harry could just make out a young boy with a head of messy black hair and a young girl with a head of shimmering red hair sitting at a table together.  
  
"Why are we doing this again?" whispered Remus. He ducked a large tray laden with colorful drinks as a waitress bustled past him.  
  
"We're helping our friend have a good time on his date," responded Sirius, bobbing his head up and down in an attempt to get a better view of his targets.  
  
"Then why did you tell me to bring itching powder?" asked Peter. "Ow!" He had smacked his head on the underside of one of the tables. Sirius clapped his hand over Peter's mouth.  
  
"This mission requires absolute stealth!" scolded Sirius. The three of them slid into a table not far from James and Lily and peered carefully over their menus. Remus was peering from over the top of a rather thick looking text,  
  
"Are you sure this isn't about the map?" inquired Remus, throwing Sirius a wary glance.  
  
"He turned me in, I want revenge!" said Sirius in a shrill tone. They all quickly ducked their heads down as James looked around suspiciously.  
  
Harry looked at Lupin expectantly.  
  
"James and Lily were patrolling the halls. They happened to run into Sirius, who was sneaking around doing Merlin-knows-what (probably sneaking off to the Ravenclaw girl's dormitories)," explained Lupin. "Then, if I remember correctly, Filch caught him. James tried to win Lily over by turning Sirius in. Filch confiscated the Marauder's Map." Harry nodded, inching closer to his parents. A waitress set down two butterbeers on the table but stalked off quickly, muttering, as the sound of breaking glass came from the kitchens.  
  
"Thanks—," said Lily, as the waitress departed. She leaned over and took a sip of her drink. A few strands of fiery red hair fell in front of her face. James was staring at her, fingering the shiny "Head Boy" badge on his chest.  
  
"So," began Lily, ending the lull in conversation. "Do you think you're going to keep playing Quidditch after school?"  
  
"No, I don't think so. I want to become an Auror," answered James earnestly. Harry felt a familiar twinge of pain. "What about you?"  
  
"Oh, well—I did want to be a Healer, but—with all the things that have been happening lately I just—feel like I should be doing something more, you know?" said Lily thoughtfully. James nodded in agreement. Harry had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what "things" his mother was referring to. He caught a snippet of the conversation at the table behind him and wandered back to the table the rest of the Marauders were sitting at. Lupin was kneeling next to James and Lily, deeply absorbed in their conversation. He had an oddly pained look on his face.  
  
"You distract them," instructed Sirius. "Wormtail, you douse their robes with itching powder."  
  
"This is ridiculous," muttered Remus, clapping his hand to his forehead. "I'm not distracting them. You distract them if it's so important to you."  
  
"But if I go, they'll no something's up! They trust you," Sirius said adamantly.  
  
"They trust me because I'm not likely to distract them while Peter douses them with itching powder," said Remus, frowning.  
  
"We're only dousing James!" said Sirius, as if that was any better. Remus sighed, burying his face in his book.  
  
"Fine," he said in an exasperated tone. "Do whatever you want."  
  
Sirius smiled in appreciation. "Wormtail, you distract them."  
  
Peter nodded. Looking rather nervous, he sidled up to James and Lily and stood next to adult Lupin.  
  
"James! Lily!" said Peter jovially. "Fancy meeting you here!"  
  
"Hello, Peter," said Lily in a cheerful voice, her green eyes sparkling with warmth.  
  
"Wormtail," said James, tipping his head slightly. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Oh, just stopping in for a drink," replied Peter. He gestured towards Remus, who lifted his gaze from his book and gave a small wave of his hand.  
  
Sirius was crouching so low he was practically crawling along the floor. Harry watched a hand shoot up next to James's elbow and pour several handfuls of what looked like different colored sand into James's mug.  
  
"Well, enjoy your date," said Peter. Though he was smiling, his voice seemed strained. James followed him with his eyes as Peter turned and headed back to the table, his expression still dubious. He absently took a sip of his butterbeer. Finally satisfied that no one else was there, he turned his attention back to Lily. Sirius's head popped out from underneath the table. He sat down next to Remus and stared eagerly at James, cackling.  
  
"To tell the truth, you always seemed like a bit of a jerk," said Lily. "Are you all right?" she asked in a concerned voice. James was avidly itching his arms and looking extremely uncomfortable.  
  
"Oh, yes," said James in a tense voice. "Fine!" Lily's eyes widened as large antlers suddenly sprouted from James's head.  
  
"What?" asked James. Lily, whose mouth was hanging open, made no reply. James's hand flew to his head, and incidentally, his new set of antlers.  
  
"SIRIUS!!" roared James, standing up so fast he knocked over his chair. He looked wildly around. Sirius had apparently given up on stealth mode; he was now rolling on the floor, laughing uproariously. James spotted him and lunged at him.  
  
"You—ruined—my—date—" he howled, wrapping his hands around Sirius's neck, attempting to strangle him.  
  
"That's enough!" cried Madame Rosmerta, attempting to pry James and Sirius apart through her own fits of laughter. "This is not a dueling club! Stop it this instant you two!" Lily leapt up and helped pull James to his feet.  
  
"Why don't we walk down to Honeydukes?" she cooed in James's ear. "Here—let me—" She waved her wand, causing James's head to return to normal. She led him out of the Three Broomsticks.  
  
"That was rather funny, you know..." she said, as James's eyes bugged out in fury.  
  
"You—out!" said Madame Rosmerta, dragging Sirius out of the bar by his ear. Peter and Remus tagged along behind their fallen comrade, grinning apologetically.  
  
They were still in the Three Broomsticks. Small groups of students and parents were sitting together, talking and laughing. The Marauders and Lily were sharing a table in the center of the room. James and Lily were holding hands underneath the table.  
  
"I can't believe we're out of school already," said Lily, shaking her head.  
  
"It did go awfully fast," agreed Lupin.  
  
"Fast?" said Sirius incredulously. "It took ages! All that homework..."  
  
"Padfoot, you haven't done a bit of homework in your life," pointed out James.  
  
"I did some of it! I remember it quite well; it was bloody awful. Anyway, so what?" said Sirius dramatically. "Neither did you."  
  
"It's not as though it mattered anyway," said Remus. "You've already gotten a job offer from Gringotts."  
  
"I don't want to be a curse breaker, that's _boring_," complained Sirius, wrinkling his nose. "I want to tame dragons!" Harry found it rather hard to imagine any of them having jobs, especially Sirius.  
  
"Did my parents have jobs?" Harry began eagerly pelting Lupin with questions. "What did they do? Was my father an Auror?"  
  
"No," said Lupin. "Things got very bad very fast. No one our age had much time to pursue a career too seriously. "  
  
Sirius glanced at his pocket watch for a third time.  
  
"In a hurry, Padfoot?" inquired James, smirking.  
  
"No," replied Sirius happily. "I'm expecting a delivery in a few minutes."  
  
"A delivery of what?" asked Peter.  
  
"A graduation present!" answered Sirius, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.  
  
"Who would get you a graduation present?" asked James. "No offense." Suddenly there was a loud roaring outside the windows. A few people winced at the noise. Sirius stood up and dashed out of the door, grinning ecstatically. His friends followed behind him, looking apprehensive.  
  
"I got it for myself, of course!" said Sirius gleefully. He made a grand gesture towards a huge shining metallic contraption. The machine was still emitting deafening roars.  
  
"Sirius Black?" called the delivery man as he climbed down off the seat of the motorcycle. "Sign here." Sirius quickly accepted the clipboard and scribbled his name on it. The delivery man Dissapparated with a loud pop!  
  
"What the bleeding hell is that thing?" demanded James, staring at him in awe.  
  
"It's a motorcycle!" said Sirius proudly, running his hand over the leather seat.  
  
"A motor-what?" said Peter, throwing a fearful glance at the motorcycle, as though it might spring to life and attack him at any moment.  
  
"A motorcycle," supplied Lily. "My cousin has one."  
  
"It's awfully big, isn't it?" said Remus, staring at it.  
  
"It flies!" exclaimed Sirius, ignoring Remus's observation. He ran his hands along the motorcycle lovingly. "Who wants a ride?" His friends backed a few feet away.  
  
"Lily wants a ride," said James.  
  
"WHAT?" yelled Lily. "Er—NO—that's alright."  
  
"Why not, sweetie?" asked James innocently. "You don't mind riding my broomstick."  
  
"Great!" said Sirius. He and James scooped up Lily and sat her down on the motorcycle. "Ready?"  
  
"No!" protested Lily.  
  
"Off we go!" shouted Sirius. The motorcycle roared and soared off into the sky.  
  
"EEEAAARRRGGGHHH!" shrieked Lily. "James Potter! I'm going to kill you!"  
  
"That motorcycle is sitting in the cellar, you know," said Adult Lupin, grinning.  
  
"Maybe I'll ride it," said Harry thoughtfully. "It can't be that different from a broomstick, can it?"  
  
Lily emitted a few more shrieks as Sirius flew in a huge upside down loop.  
  
**AN:** Next: the first meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. Yay...  
  
**PS:** Living in Oblivion by LaxGoalie! Please R&R 


	12. The Order of the Phoenix

**AN:** Thanks to everybody who reviewed my story, and my 'lil sis's story, yay!

They were in a place Harry didn't recognize. It was a large room with a high vaulted ceiling. Though the torches on the wall bathed everything in flickering light, the room still gave off the feeling of perpetual darkness and gloom. A number of people were sitting in a circle on a few wooden benches. A few pieces of parchment covered in diagrams and notes were tacked onto the stone walls. Harry noticed a large illustration of the Darkmark, labeled in tiny handwriting.

"This is the Headquarters of the first Order of the Phoenix, isn't it?" said Harry, looking around in awe.

"It is indeed," replied Lupin, also glancing around the room.

Harry recognized most of the crowd from the photo Moody had showed him. They looked slightly nervous, but most of them were chattering energetically. He spotted his parents sitting next to each other, talking to Sirius.

"What is it? Come on, spill it!" demanded Sirius. "You said you had an announcement."

"Hold your Hippogriffs," replied James, smiling mischievously. He waved towards Remus as he entered the room.

"Hello, Moony," said Sirius cheerfully.

"How's the job hunting going?" asked Lily politely.

"Eh...I can't even start applying until I finish the Ministry paperwork," sighed Remus. "It's taking days, honestly." Harry noticed his robes looked distinctly shabby for the first time since he had left school. His friends gave him sympathetic looks, which seemed to make him slightly uncomfortable. The subject shifted as Peter Pettigrew ambled into the room, looking uneasy.

"Oy! Wormtail!" yelled James. "Over here!"

"Hello, everyone," squeaked Peter, calming down slightly at the sight of his friends.

"Now you _have_ to tell," said Sirius insistently, leaning forward on his chair. Harry was getting edgy as well. He couldn't help it, he was rather curious by nature.

"We're—" began James.

"—engaged!" blurted out Lily, thrusting her hand forward. There was a large, glimmering white stone on her finger. James looked slightly disappointed that she had stolen his thunder. Sirius let out a low whistle.

"Prongs, mate, that's quite a sizeable chunk of moon quartz," he said, staring at Lily's outstretched hand.

"It's gorgeous," sighed Lily, twisting the ring on her finger and admiring its pale, shimmering surface.

"Oh!" cried a woman sitting on the bench next to James. "Lily! You didn't!"

She seized Lily's hand and pulled it towards her face, carefully examining the ring. "You did!" she shrieked, wrapping Lily and James in a huge hug. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you, Alice," said Lily happily. The man next to Alice stood up and extended his hand towards James.

"Congratulations, James, Lily," said the man, smiling. James grasped the man's hand and shook it heartily.

"Thanks, Frank," said James. The Longbottoms looked so happy and alive. Harry suddenly felt distinctly ill as he looked at the happy faces in the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters.

"'Moon Quartz'?" asked Harry, attempting to distract himself from the dark thoughts that had begun to encircle his mind.

"The wizarding equivalent of a diamond, I believe," explained Lupin. "James did come from a rather rich family. Until this night, I didn't know you could _buy_ Moon Quartz that big. I think you actually have to go to the moon to mine for it, so it's fairly expensive."

Soon most of the room was cavorting around Lily and James, both to congratulate them and to stare at Lily's engagement ring. Harry noticed a few of them looked slightly jealous. A silence fell over them as Dumbledore entered the room through a small door that suddenly appeared in the corner.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," chuckled Dumbledore as he eyed the crowd around Lily and James. The crowd of people grinned apologetically and shuffled back to their seats. Once silence had fallen, Dumbledore began to speak.

"Welcome to the first official meeting of the Order of the Phoenix," said Dumbledore in a calm, almost regal voice. "We are all here tonight to stand and unite against a threat, the threat of the annihilation of our entire world. All of you have been asked here tonight because you are the most capable witches and wizards of our age, and we are going to need all of our knowledge and prowess to fight against Lord Voldemort and his followers."

Everyone in the room was staring at Dumbledore, completely absorbed in his every word. Harry was surprised that no one flinched at the sound of Voldemort's name. Were they all fearless, or was it too early to tell? Dumbledore continued to speak, moving slowly about the room, and explain the diagrams and notes on the walls.

&&&

_CRACK! _

The wooden wall of a house behind Harry splintered and burst into flames. Harry jumped. It was night, Harry had no idea where they were, but it looked like the center of a small city. He and Lupin were standing next to Sirius, who was crouching behind a fallen tree. He let out a stream of expletives as a jet of blue light shot over his head. There was a crowd of Death Eaters in black hoods no more than 40 yards away. The scene was chaotic, noisy, dangerous, and completely alien, and yet somehow—familiar to Harry. A wave of fury passed over him as he looked at the Death Eaters. He wondered if Malfoy was among them—or Snape for that matter. He scowled at the thought.

"GET THE GEM!" Sirius roared at a number of other wizards and witches who were crouching behind large objects not far away from him. The few people closest to him nodded, nervous but resolute. Harry was shocked to recognize his own parents among them. "Moony, Longbottom, Prewett, help me cover them!" he added.

Three seconds later, younger Lupin, Frank Longbottom, and Fabian Prewett had flung themselves out from behind their hiding places and were firing curses towards the Death Eaters. James and Lily, raced out into the middle of the whole chaotic mess towards a small bundle of rags from the middle of the road. Still crouching low, Lily scooped up the pile, (which seemed to be glowing slightly), as James fired curses over her head.

"What is that?" yelled Harry in a voice that was probably louder than necessary. "What's going on?" His chest was tight with excitement; he could barely find the voice to blurt out all of his questions.

"This is one of the Order's missions," said Lupin, still patiently answering Harry's questions, even after so many frustrating hours stuck inside his friend's memories.

"_This_ is what you do on missions?" said Harry incredulously. "I was under the impression that you stared at maps all day," he added sarcastically.

"Late July," continued Lupin. "One year out of school. We got ambushed trying to remove the 'Eye of Agomotto'from a small town outside of Bath. The giant chief Ongst demanded it as a gift. Voldemort went after the stone, and we intercepted it."

"How on Earth do you remember all that?" asked Harry.

"I've been reading over all of the records from the first Order of the Phoenix," explained Lupin. "It's been rather quiet in the house lately...Sirius never liked sorting through old records. It drove him mad, really. He was a man of action, I suppose." Lupin trailed off miserably.

**AN:** Sorry about the LLLONG pause, I was away at band camp!


	13. Worth Fighting For

**AN:** For some reason I have this vision of Sirius singing "Black Dog" by Led Zeppelin that I can't get out of my brain. My sister asked me what song to make Sirius sing and I immediately answered Black Dog! Now will it be redundant if I use it again?

Harry and Lupin were now in a much happier setting. People were laughing and cheering from circular tables in a beautiful well-lit hall. Everyone's attention was focused at the table in the center of the hall, where a young Sirius was holding his glass aloft. Seated around him were two older couples Harry didn't recognize and--his Aunt Petunia?! There was a shiny pink dress, which looked almost like a robe on her bony frame, and she had an extremely disgruntled look on her face. Harry smirked. Aunt Petunia wearing a wizarding dress robe was priceless. She gave a halfhearted twitching motion with her glass as Sirius finished and chugged down her drink in one gulp.

"What is this stuff?" she demanded, shoving the empty glass across the table as if it had formerly contained poison.

"It's called 'FireWhiskey'," said the woman next to her kindly. "James's father bought it." The man across the table nodded his head politely and she smiled warmly back at him. Harry barely noticed for shock when he recognized the woman sitting next to her. It was his mother. He had seen her before, but today she looked different somehow. She was wearing a beautiful silky white gown which hugged her slender frame. Her red hair cascaded through a shimmering white veil atop her head.

"You look beautiful," he whispered in her ear.

"You say that every day," she responded, smiling.

"Yes, but do you ever get tired of hearing it?" he said mischievously.

"Not today." James leaned over and kissed her cheek affectionately. Harry's attention now shifted towards the two older couples at the table. He vaguely recognized them from the Mirror of Erised. Both sets of parents were beaming, but Petunia looked extremely sour. Harry was surprised. He didn't really expect to see _his_ grandparents in Sirius's memories.

"This is poison, isn't it?" said Petunia shrilly, eyeing her empty glass.

"It's not poison, it's alcohol," explained Sirius, rolling his eyes. "You look like you could use some right about now." He shot Lily an exasperated look, as if to say, "Why is _she _sitting here?"

"It's freak alcohol, isn't it?" wailed Petunia.

"I like it!" said a man with bright green eyes. He smiled at James's father appreciatedly.

"Where is er—Van—Vernon?" asked James awkwardly, attempting to break the tension.

"You expect me to bring him _here_?" cried Petunia, horrified. "With—with all—"

"Karaoke!" yelled Sirius, standing up suddenly.

"What's Kar--ee--okayeey?" asked James, confused.

"You told me to organize some entertainment!" said Sirius. He waved his wand and a microphone appeared in his hand. Petunia shrieked and nearly toppled out of her chair. She was clutching her chest and breathing heavily.

"I was just trying to get you to go away," admitted Lily.

"Who wants to go first?" asked Sirius cheerfully. Everyone stared at him blankly. "Right then, I will!" He downed a few more shots of Fire Whiskey and ran up to the front of the hall. He put on a pair of sunglasses and cleared his throat.

"_Hey, hey, mama, said the way you move! Gonna make you sweat, gonna make you groove! Ah, ah, child, way you shake that thing! Gonna make you burn, gonna make you sting! Hey, hey, baby, when you walk that way! Watch your honey drip, can't keep away! OH YEAH!!_" Everyone on one side of the room stared at him as though he was quite insane. One the other side of the room, a few people laughed. Harry's jaw was hanging open.

"What is wrong with him, exactly?" asked Harry slowly.

"You have no idea how many times I've asked myself that same question," said Lupin fondly, shaking his head. They both stared quietly at their departed friend, who had now jumped on top of a table. He continued to dance around like a nut. Younger Lupin approached Harry's parents, smiling warmly.

"James and Lily, congratulations," he said majestically. "Thank you for inviting me!" James looked rather affronted.

"You're _always_ welcome Moony!" said James insistently. Harry jumped slightly when a small balding man slithered up behind younger Lupin.

"Congratulations!" squeaked Pettigrew.

"Thank you, Peter," said Lily politely. Harry noticed both Lupins wincing as Sirius hit an unpleasantly high note.

"_I gotta roll, can't stand still! Got a flamin' heart, can't get my fill! Eyes that shine burning red, dreams of you all through my head! AH AH AH!" _Sirius finally stopped singing and jumped off the table. "Who wants to go next?"

No one volunteered.

"Tough crowd, eh?" said Sirius maliciously. "Wellll, I guess I could song a few more numbers" Immediately a few people jumped out of their seats and snatched the microphone off of Sirius. Sirius returned to his friends table, looking pleased with himself despite the awful noise of "singing" that now filled the hall.

&&&

They were at another Order meeting. The atmosphere seemed darker. The members of the Order looked more tired, uneasy, and worn down than the people he had seen in the last meeting. Sirius was conversing with Lily and James in low tones.

"So it's true, then," said Sirius, in a voice barely above a murmur. "Dumbledore thinks they're may be a spy within the Order."

"Yes," replied James darkly. "But whoâ₿"

"Who?" asked Lily. "I just—can't imagine anyone in this room betraying us. Our—our friends" she finished, her voice wavering slightly. She placed a hand on her stomach, her eyes wide with fear. Harry noticed her stomach was quite swollen—probably with, well—him. Weird. James squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"Welcome back, everyone," said Dumbledore in a somber voice. "We have much to discuss tonight, but first we must take a moment to mourn the passing of a dear friend and fellow Order member, Benjy Fenwick."

Everyone in the room bowed their heads and murmured his name. One of the witches in the corner of the room was sobbing loudly, her tiny shoulders shaking violently. Someone next to her attempted vainly to comfort her. The meeting continued on around her.

"Dorcas has some information to present," said Dumbledore. He indicated a tall witch standing next to him.

"Thank you, Albus," she replied calmly, taking a spot in the front of the room. "As you all know, our modes of gathering useful intel for out cause are rare. However, on my last mission I discovered that Voldemort—" Most of the people in the room flinched. "—has been reaching out to the werewolf population. We all know he has already been successful in rallying beings such as giants and dementors—I don't think anyone will forget the massacre outside of Hogsmeade last week—"

She paused for a minute, her mouth tightening into a thin line that would have made Professor McGonagall proud. A shudder passed through the room. Dorcas continued with her report, but Harry was more interested in observing Sirius and his parents. They were sitting together as usual, with younger Lupin and Pettigrew. James, Lily, and Sirius's eyes had flown to Lupin when Dorcas had mentioned werewolves. He pretended not to notice, but continued to stare ahead, his posture slightly rigid. He knew they were staring at him, and he looked uncomfortable, but Harry noticed he also looked slightly—hurt.

The eyes of his parents and Sirius were so focused on Lupin, they didn't seem to notice that Pettigrew was fidgeting, sweating, and twitching more than everyone in the room combined. Harry walked closer to Pettigrew and examined his pale face through narrowed eyes.

"He was already working for Voldemort, wasn't he?" said Harry bitterly.

"I suppose," said Lupin in a tired voice. He looked sadly from himself to the cold eyes of his friends. If they had trusted him at that moment, would things have turned out differently? It was prejudice that tore everything apart, the very same prejudice this war had been fought over

"That is all for tonight," said Dumbledore shortly. "Time is of the essence." The meeting began to disperse.

&&&

Harry and Lupin were floating in the air next to Sirius, who was tearing through the night air on his motorcycle. It was a very odd position.

"Please, please, no, it had to be mistake," he moaned in a voice barely above a whisper. He slammed his foot on a pedal and the motorcycle began to descend. They were approaching the ruins of a house, or at least Harry thought it was a house. It had been flattened as though a bomb had gone off inside of it. There was a large man standing in the middle of the wreckage, easily lifting up large broken timbers and tossing them aside as if they were twigs. Sirius let the motorcycle drop to the ground. It fell sideways and he stepped over it as if in a daze.

"It—can't —what—no—no—," he muttered. His breathing was short and ragged and his pale hands were trembling uncontrollably. Hagrid ignored him for a moment. Shifting a last piece of debris aside, he gingerly pulled what looked like a small bundle of blankets into his arms.

"Sirius?" asked Hagrid carefully. "Are yeh alright?"

"No, no, no, no," he answered, his eyes overbright. "This is my fault, this is, me, I killed—no no"

Harry felt sick. He knew exactly where he was. He didn't want to be here. This was the last place he wanted to be. He didn't want to see this.

"It wasn't your fault," insisted Hagrid. "We did what we could. I know it 'urts now, but"

"You don't understand," moaned Sirius. "Lily and James, I so sorry..." He inched forward to a small hollow in the debris.

"Sirius," muttered Hagrid. Sirius ignored him. Harry also felt drawn to the hole. He knew what he would find there but a part of him didn't care

"Harry," said Lupin in a warning voice, but Harry continued forward. Lupin looked very pale. He raised his arm as if to pull Harry back but instead stood motionless, watching in horror as Sirius pulled the body of a man into his arms.

"James," he whispered. The man looked surprised. A few streaks of dirt and a small stream of dried blood clung to his pale face. "It's not real, you can't be dead, you can't—you—please, say something—oh, God, this is all my fault. All mine, all…" Sirius cradled his friend's head in his lap. Harry stood above him. There he was. His father. The same face he had seen in all those photographs, smiling at him. Now he was nothing, an empty shell—glassy eyes staring up at nothing. Finally, Hagrid pulled Sirius back, away from the bodies.

"This can't be the end!" he moaned. He looked Hagrid in the eyes. "Where is she?"

"Stop it, Sirius," said Hagrid, trying to maintain a gentle tone. "She's 'ere, she's not really 'ere, it's not your fault—" Sirius gave a howl like a wounded animal. He ran over to the spot Hagrid had pulled baby Harry from and sank to his knees.

"Lily, I'm so sorry..." Lily Potter was dead. Her eyes were frozen open, vacant except for a look of fear gracing her perfect porcelain features. Her arms were flung open as if vainly trying to protect something. It took Harry a few seconds to register that he had fallen onto the ground. Perhaps his legs had stopped working. He kneeled next to Sirius, gasping as though he had just had the wind knocked out of him.

It was so different then anything he had felt towards his parents before. His parents had always been dead, like a distant relative you heard was dead but had never actually met. He knew them by reputation only. How could losing them possibly hurt so much? The emptiness inside him where there should have been a family had always been just a dull ache, but now he felt a searing pain. Why did they have to be dead? Why? Why—

"Why can't they be alive?" he cried, to no one in particular. He felt sick. Lupin knelt down beside him. Harry realized he had been shouting. His throat constricted and he turned away from Lupin. He shouldn't cry. He was 16 years old. Why was he acting like such a wimp?

"Harry—," began Lupin, but no words came out. He finally reached forward and grabbed Harry's shoulder reassuringly. "I—I miss them, too," he said finally. "More than anything."

"I want them to be alive," said Harry in a small voice. "I don't want photographs and maps and lies and stories! I want to see them, I want to talk to them! All I've ever know is a pair of—of—dead bodies..."

"I don't know what to say, Harry," sighed Lupin. "We fought for so long, and we all just—died. Our generation has borne the scars of this war, and now—yours must do the same."

"It's all so wrong," said Harry miserably. "This world looks so shiny and perfect and on the surface, but once you're inside it still just as messed up as everything else—maybe even worse than the rest of the non-magical world. You'd think magic would make everything so easy, but it doesn't." He paused and looked at Lupin, who was listening very carefully to everything he was saying. Sirius was holding Harry's mother's lifeless hand.

"When Hermoine got her letter, she said Professor McGonagall came to her house and told her that she was gifted—special. And now she's here. So is Ron. And they're going to stand by me, and maybe even die by my side, just because some power hungry manic says so. Why didn't she just go to regular school? She's not gifted. She's cursed. We're all cursed."

"Do you regret it?" asked Lupin solemnly.

"I don't think things would have been any better if I had stayed in that wretched cupboard under the stairs. When Hagrid came for me, Uncle Vernon said they were going to rid me of that magic bullock forever. Hagrid said that was impossible. He was right. This is my world. I can't run away. One way or another, I am going to have to fight. And probably die. He'll come for me. He doesn't even know it yet but he will. And that will be the end."

"Then why fight?" asked Lupin quietly.

"Because—," he looked at Sirius and the bodies of his parents. He remembered Sirius's face, that night in Grimmauld Place. "There are things worth fighting for."

"You can't do anything for them now!" Hagrid said in a slightly angry tone. "We'll all miss 'em, more then anythin', but—"

"How can you say that?!" Sirius screamed, cutting Hagrid off again. "Miss him? He was my best friend! He was my brother! MY BROTHER! How could anyone possibly know—" Suddenly, the tiny bundle in Hagrid's arms began wailing and writhing.

"It's alrigh', Harry," cooed Hagrid.

"He wants his mother," said Sirius darkly.

"That's enough, Black," growled Hagrid, as the baby began crying again. An odd look crossed Sirius face.

"Give Harry to me, Hagrid," said Sirius insistently. He held out his arms towards the baby. "I'm his godfather."

"Dumbledore wants me teh bring 'im straight to 'im. No exceptions," replied Hagrid in a business like tone. Sirius looked crushed. "I'm already runnin' late as eht is."

"Fine," he said in a defeated voice. He moved a little closer to Harry and Hagrid tightened his grip. "I can at least say goodbye to him, can't I?" snapped Sirius. Hagrid sighed and bent over so that Sirius was at eye level with his godson. Baby Harry smiled when he saw him.

"You can take my motorbike, Hagrid," said Sirius, not taking his eyes off the baby. Hagrid looked flummoxed.

"Are yeh sure 'bout that?" he asked.

"Yes," he said firmly. His hands had stopped trembling. "I won't be needing it anymore." His face hardened and his eyes had a familiar look, as if they was a fire burning behind them.

"Where are you going, Black?" demanded Hagrid, as Sirius walked away.

"I have to go see an old friend," he hissed in a venomous voice.

**AN:** AARG! No time for writing, 4 AP classes! Ah! Sorry about the wait, I'll try to update soon.


	14. Buried Alive

**AN:** Long space between updates...

"PETTIGREW!" howled Sirius. A small man darted through the crowd on a city sidewalk, his body trembling with fear. He stumbled desperately through the mass of humanity in front of him, all of whom were quite unaware that Lily and James Potter were dead, and they had taken the most evil wizard in existence with them on their way out.

"Where are you going, Wormtail?" screamed Sirius. His voice was hoarse, and his eyes were blazing with fury and bulging out of his skull. For once, Harry could almost see the resemblance between Sirius and the mad, bitter old crone hanging on the wall at Grimmuald Place. A strangled scream tried to escape from Pettigrew's throat; he looked backward in horror and tripped, sprawling headfirst onto the middle of the street. Sirius stepped out in front of him. He couldn't have been more than 20 yards away, and he was still screaming like a mad man.

"Blood, Wormtail," said Sirius in a quieter voice. "It's on your hands, and you will pay a very high price for it." Pettigrew scooted backwards on the ground, still terrified. He was fumbling for something in his pocket. Many people on the sidewalk had turned their attention towards the two lunatics in the middle of the street.

"There's nowhere on this Earth you can hide from me!" hollered Sirius. Pettigrew began muttering something under his breath. Sirius threw him a sharp glance.

"You—you—you killed them!" said Pettigrew his feeble voice growing stronger. Soon, he was screaming and sobbing. He slowly raised his wand behind his back. "Lily and James, Sirius!! Our friends!!" Harry noticed Pettigrew refused to look at Sirius. He stared at the ground.

"WHAT?" roared Sirius. "I'm going to send you screaming to Hell, you traitorous little b—"

"HOW COULD YOU?!" shrieked Pettigrew. He was standing on a sewer grate. This was it. Harry was going to see it all. The explosion— cutting off his finger—the little rat scampering into the sewers—

_**BOOM!**_

Harry threw his hand up instinctively. He was wrong. He couldn't see anything at all—except the fiery inferno that had consumed the street. People were screaming, crying out in pain, confusion—death—

When the smoke cleared, thirteen Muggles lay dead in the street. Harry squinted through the smoke until he found his godfather. Sirius was standing at the end of a jagged, gaping tear in the middle of the road. He stared down into the hole, not really looking at anything, and he began to laugh. It wasn't the laughter Harry remembered. It was cold, merciless, and empty. So that was it. He had nothing left. He laughed.

Ministry wizards quickly descended upon the scene, horrified looks upon their faces. At least a dozen of them fell upon Sirius and roughly dragged him away. Sirius didn't struggle with them. A couple of the wizards moved to disarm Sirius, but his wand fell limply to the ground before they could touch him. He was still laughing. It was a horrible sound that twisted Harry's stomach into knots.

The laughter of a man who had lost all hope.

&&&

Harry was in a dank, poorly lit hallway. Rows of dull metallic gates seemed to stretch infinitely in either direction. Lupin, who was standing next to him, muttered something hatefully under his breath. It was a location, but Harry already knew where they were.

"Azkaban..."

There was a clanking, clamoring sound. A door at the end of the hallway swung open and a small crowd began moving slowly down the hallway. There was a rustling sound in the cage next to Harry. As he looked closer, he saw a pair of pale eyes glinting in the darkness in the corner of the cell. Sirius suddenly stood up and rushed forward, pressing himself against the bars of his cage. He didn't look much different than he had in the last memory; he couldn't have been there for more than a few days.

"Bartiemus Crouch, I presume," said Sirius, carefully. His voice was still hoarse, but from screaming or lack of use—Harry wasn't sure. Mr. Crouch's lip curled in disgust. He stood in front of Sirius's cell door, flanked by two dementors.

"Sirius Black," replied Mr. Crouch coolly, pulling an official-looking piece of parchment out of his pocket. "By order of the Ministry of Magic, your temporary detention pending trial has been extended indefinitely."

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" growled Sirius.

"It means you don't deserve a trial. You don't deserve to live. I'm locking you up and throwing away the key, you murdering piece of filth," hissed Crouch.

"You—you can't—do that—" said Sirius his grip tightening on the bars of the cell.

"You're all the same," growled Crouch. "Death Eaters." He pulled his cloak around tightly across his shoulders and started down the hall.

"You've got the wrong man!" cried Sirius, his voice rising in desperation. He began furiously shaking the bars. "I need to talk to Dumbledore!"

"Dumbledore has already spoken on your behalf," called Crouch as he pushed open the door at the end of the hall. "I believe I speak for all decent wizards when I tell you I hope you rot in hell. Good day, Mr. Black."

Sirius slid down to his knees. He leaned against the bars, his face almost vacant with shock. The door slammed shut behind Crouch, leaving behind only an echoing sound that reverberated in the emptiness of the shadowy corridor.

&&&

Much to Harry's distaste, he found himself once again within Azkaban. He and Lupin were still outside Sirius's cell. Sirius was backed up into the corner farthest from the cage door, leaning his head against the wall. He looked like he hadn't shaven in a while and his clothes were dirty.

Harry passed silently through the cell bars and sat down next to Sirius. He wasn't moving at all, and there was a dark, closed expression on his face. In fact, he looked almost as if he was dead, except for his shallow breathing. Harry remembered that look, he had seen it in passing a few times in Sirius's face.

"Bloody hell, he looks...dead," observed Harry, searching Sirius's face for some sign of life. He had been alive when he came out, hadn't he?

"This place can do that to a man," replied Lupin sadly. He crouched down and leveled his gaze with his lost friend, an infinite sadness on his face.

"He was in here for so long," muttered Harry. "And then he left. He escaped! Why didn't escape earlier? Why didn't he tell people the truth? What's wrong with him?" he finished miserably.

Lupin shrugged. "Who would have believed him? The evidence was gone. His friends were dead. He had nothing to fight for, except you."

"He came back for Pettigrew," said Harry softly. "He came back for vengeance; to settle old scores. He came back for my father, not for me." It was true, wasn't it? After all, he didn't care that much why Sirius had come back, it just felt so right to have him there. And now...

Lupin looked at him sympathetically. "He came back to for you, Harry. To save your life."

"After 12 years? What about you? Didn't you deserve to know the truth?" demanded Harry.

A pained expression crossed Lupin's face. "I...we didn't...I mean, before that day...he and James thought...that I..." he sighed heavily.

"It doesn't matter why he came back," said Harry firmly. Lupin stared at him. "Honestly, it doesn't. I don't care if he thought I was my father, or treated me that way, it felt so wonderful just to have known him at all."

Harry's thoughts were abruptly interrupted as the door at the end of the corridor swung open, crashing loudly into the opposite wall as it went. A cluster of dementors was dragging a few ashen-faced youths down the wide stone hallway. The noise seemed to stir a sense of awareness in Sirius, his head snapped up towards the cell door.

An attractive young girl with long black hair was wailing at the top of her lungs, adding to the din. With some astonishment, Harry recognized her as the aged, evil-looking woman who would emerge from Azkaban 15 years later.

"THE DARK LORD WILL RISE AGAIN! I WILL WAIT! WE WILL ALL WAIT! THE DARK LORD! HE—"

Bellatrix stopped shrieking and stared into the cell on her left. She locked her gaze with Sirius's and smirked.

"Dear cousin," she crooned. "How nice to see you again." The dementors had stopped moving down the hall, and they all turned their sightless gaze towards Sirius. They crowded slightly closer to the cell, perhaps hoping to feed off of the sudden increase in Sirius's emotional distress. Sirius opened his mouth to speak. It took a few moments before any sound came out, as if he hadn't uttered a single word for a long time.

"I have no family left, least of all you," he spat, glaring at her from underneath a mop of filthy, black hair. Bellatrix simply smiled.

"What a pity, I heard you were serving our glorious master, the Dark Lord." Sirius simply glared at her, gritting his teeth. She leaned closer to the cell and whispered.

"He begged on his knees when the Dark Lord killed him. His whore and his baby filth were weeping for mercy...just like I'm going to kill you someday."

"You're lying!" shrieked Sirius. He jumped forward and rammed his arms through the bars, trying desperately to reach Bellatrix, to hurt her in any way possible. Bellatrix didn't even flinch.

"I look forward to spending some quality time together," she giggled, an insane glint in her eyes. The dementors dragged her slowly down the hall.


	15. Moonlight

**AN:** Yeah, so misery and angst…I'll try to come up with some random humor…later. I mean soon. Soon! I need to come up with some good ideas. Oh, and thanks to all those that reviewed! You guys are so awesome. Reviews make me feel happy, and then I feel inspired to write! Oh, and I **_totally_** understand being preoccupied with schoolwork. I just finished applying to seven (count 'em, seven) colleges (I know people who applied to 12!) and it was a nightmare.

&&&

"Right, I think I've had about all I can stand," insisted Harry in an edgy voice. "Can you get us the heck out of here now?" he demanded.

"Hmm…" Lupin looked around, appraising their surroundings. They were once again in the center of a slowly whirling tunnel of blurred color. "Perhaps. This looks like the end of the chain of Sirius's memories."

"So, let's get out of here," said Harry urgently.

"Ok," said Lupin. He held onto Harry upper arm and closed his eyes. Harry waited patiently for a few moments.

"Is anything happening?" asked Lupin hopefully. Harry looked around.

"No," he admitted. Lupin sighed.

"Okay, we'll try again," he pulled out his wand and pointed it straight above his head. Harry shut his eyes and concentrated, even though he really had no idea what to do.

"_Liberatio memoriola!_" he cried. Nothing happened. Harry opened one eye experimentally. "Eh…_licentia caligo!_" Still nothing. Lupin waved his wand hopelessly. "_Expello? Libertum?_" Lupin's arm sank down in defeat. Harry stared at him expectantly.

"I have absolutely no idea how to get out of here," he admitted in a defeated voice.

"I've been in these things before," offered Harry. "You just kind of float to the top and you're out." He jumped up and down a few times and waved his arms wildly. He soon felt rather stupid and gave up. Harry noticed the color vortex was slowing down.

"Oh, no, no, I can't take much more of this," moaned Harry.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will be back any minute," Lupin reassured him. When the scene solidified, they were standing in the middle of a dark forest. Was it the Forbidden Forest? It didn't look quite the way he remembered, but he had no idea what time he was in.

"Is this the Forbidden Forest?" asked Harry, unable to contain his curiosity, exhausted though he was.

"No," said Lupin immediately. "This is—it has to be—I'd know it anywhere—we're in—I don't believe it—"

"Huh?" asked Harry, deeply confused.

"This is the woods outside my home—well, what _was_ my home—" replied Lupin.

"So, these are your memories, then?" said Harry.

"They must be," said Lupin looking around thoughtfully. It was night, they were in Lupin's memories, outside Lupin's home, and—Harry looked up—there was a very full moon hanging in the sky above them. One good guess as to what was about to come. Just then, there was a rustling in the trees and a small boy with light brown hair crawled out from under the brush. His eyes swept the ground, as if searching for something.

Lupin's eye's widened and he stepped away from the small boy, as if terrified. The boy continued to wander around the forest. He knelt down and poked his head underneath a bush. Harry heard a long howl from not so far in the distance. The boy was humming softly to himself. A few moments later, Harry whirled around to face a low growling noise emanating from behind a large tree. There was something moving the darkness, encircling the boy.

Meanwhile, Lupin looked as though he were about to have heart attack. He was paler then before and short of breath. He continued to back away slowly from the growling bush. He was muttering something indiscernible under his breath and shaking his head. Harry attempted to comfort him but his voice didn't seem to be working. The sound coming from the bush sent a shiver down his spine. There was someone calling out in the darkness, but they were far away and it was barely more than a faint echo among the dense trees.

Suddenly, something huge and feral leapt out in front of young Remus. The werewolf let out a low growl and stretched forward on its haunches. Young Remus stared it the monster in horror, apparently frozen with fright. Adult Lupin had the same horrified look on his face, though he was trying desperately to regain his composure. The werewolf pounced. Remus ran away screaming, but he didn't get far. The werewolf sank its teeth into Remus leg and dragged him backwards along the ground. Adult Lupin gave out a kind of strangled scream as this happened. Young Remus was not shrieking horribly at the top of his lungs.

Harry winced, feeling helpless. It was very difficult being caught up shadows of past horrors, unable to affect any change. Then again, his life often felt like that. In a move that Harry found disturbingly impressive, young Remus snatched up a hefty piece of broken branch and stabbed the werewolf in the eye with it with all his might. With a furious yelp, the werewolf dropped Remus and backed a few inches away. Harry guessed that young Remus was rapidly losing consciousness, because the scene was starting to grow hazy. Blood was pouring from his mangled leg, soaking into the dirt around him. There was suddenly a huge flash of light—and someone shouting—A vague outline of a man was running towards Remus as the memory finally faded away in nothingness…

"Prof—er—Lupin," said Harry awkwardly. "Are you alright?" Lupin drew a breath.

"I'm fine, Harry," he said, forcing a smile. Harry looked at him skeptically.

"Really," he insisted. Harry noticed his hands were still shaking slightly. It wasn't totally surprising. After all, reliving one's worst memories was a pleasure usually reserved for dementor attacks.

The scene around them began to shake violently.

"Uh…Lupin, is this supposed to happen?" asked Harry nervously.

"I don't believe so," responded Lupin, furrowing his brow. "I think I may have…done something when I was trying to get us out of here."

"Something like what?" asked Harry.

"I don't exactly know," admitted Lupin.

_Whoosh._

The scene around solidified suddenly, catching Harry somewhat off guard.

"Okay…" said Harry slowly. "Where are we now?" Lupin didn't respond. "Lupin?" He looked around, wondering why Lupin wasn't responding. "Lupin? Lupin…?"

He was gone.

&&&

**AN:** Sorry for the short depressing chapter. I plan to have some happy funny stuff soon, because those are fun. Mwah ha ha…

_Coming next:_ Lupin and Harry see random separate memories (of other Order members of course!)…but fear not, they will be reunited soon. Yay!


	16. Innocence

**AN: **Everybody, review and tell me if you like the direction this story is going in. I can change, I swear! Now for a disclaimer. I keep forgetting to put one in. Here goes—

I do not own Harry Potter.

Isn't that astonishing? Oh, and later in this chapter there is mild fluffy romance featuring teenagers. No actual smut. Just kissing. Get your minds out of the gutter, people!

&&&

Lupin looked around slowly. He knew where he was—Hogwarts (big surprise there), but he wasn't really sure _when_. The castle and the surrounding hills seemed almost ageless sometimes—it was only the people there that changed. A cool breeze rippled across the hilltops. Being insubstantial, Remus couldn't feel it, but he as he watched the treetops wave gently, he felt a beautiful sense of peace wash over him. He really missed being at Hogwarts more than he liked to admit to anyone, including himself.

Having nothing better to do, he decided to explore. There had to be somebody around here, somewhere. This was a memory, after all. He soon spotted someone enjoying the shade of a nearby tree. The Whomping Willow was blissfully absent from the grounds, so Remus concluded this must be before his time at Hogwarts. He carefully examined the girl. She was young—obviously a student, but most likely in her 6th or 7th year. A pair of glasses was perched delicately on her nose, which was buried deep within a book. Her soft brown hair was pulled into a loose bun on the top of her head, and a few loose strands were flowing gently in the breeze. She closed her eyes and leaned gently against the tree truck, sighing softly.

"Minerva?" called a voice, from the other side of the hill.

"_MINERVA?_" thought Remus in awe. He took a closer look at the girl, noting the shiny Head Girl badge on her robes. He wondered if the lovely, young girl in front of him was still hiding somewhere inside the stern, thin-lipped visage of his former teacher.

"There you are," said a tall, handsome, dark haired boy, was approaching her from behind Remus. "What are you doing out here?"

"Oh, just reading, gathering my thoughts, you know," she said, smiling sheepishly.

"Headmaster Dippet wants to see you," said the boy in a smooth, yet authoritative voice. He held out his hand and pulled Minerva up onto her feet.

"Oh," said Minerva, looking slightly disappointed. "It was nice of you to come and get me." She stared meaningfully into the eyes of the boy in front of her. He looked away, his dark eyes penetrating into the depths of the Forbidden Forest. Remus noticed there was a Head Boy badge glinting on his chest.

"Think nothing of it," he said quietly, and quite possibly literally, Remus mused.

"Eleanor and I are going into Hogsmeade this weekend," she said carefully. "Would you like to come with us?"

"I'm busy this weekend," he said immediately. "Regretfully," he added in an insincere voice, seeing the disappointment on her face.

"Oh, well then, I'll see you later," she said slowly. She followed his gaze to the forest. "What are you looking for?"

"Nothing," he snapped. "Headmaster Dippet is waiting." Minerva turned and walked away, slowly. She paused and turned her head slightly.

"You never let anyone in, Tom," she said, a tinge of sadness in her voice. "What are you afraid of?" The boy, Tom, didn't answer. He met her gaze briefly, but his eyes soon fell to the ground.

Tom…that name sounded familiar. Lupin wracked his brain. Dumbledore had mentioned something to him once—a minor detail. It hadn't seemed that earth-shattering at the time. Tom…Tom…Riddle?! Good God. McGonagall had never related this particular chapter in her life to him; but then again, it wasn't something one would spread around...

A few moments passed in silence. Sighing, Minerva walked away up the hill towards the castle.

&&&

Harry realized he should be panicked, but he was rapidly becoming too exhausted to care very much. He casually explored the scene around him, eventually deciding that he was at the top of the astronomy tower. It was a dark, clear night and everything was completely silent except for the two redheaded teenagers cuddled together on the stone floor, giggling.

"Shh…Filch is going to catch us!" said the girl, playfully swatting away her companion's hand.

"No he's not," insisted the boy sitting next to her. They both looked about seventeen and they were wearing Griffindor robes. They leaned together and began kissing affectionately. Harry gazed off in the opposite direction, feeling rather intrusive. He really wasn't interested in watching strangers snog. After what seemed like a long time, the two teenagers pulled apart. They were lying side by side under a blanket, staring up at the night sky.

"We could have just stayed in the common room, you know," said the girl matter-of-factly. "It's three in the morning, we're quite out of bounds, and we have class tomorrow."

"Yes, but the common room doesn't have a view of all this," the boy said dramatically, gesturing at the starry night sky with a broad, sweeping arm motion. "And since when do you care if you sneak out of bounds once and awhile?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll have you know I didn't get a single detention before I met you," argued the girl.

"I find that hard to believe," said the boy, smirking. "I thought I was talking to the girl who made a living legend of herself by stealing Professor Smythwicke's toupee…"

"They never proved that was me," replied the girl, grinning mischievously. For some reason, Harry was strongly reminded of Ginny. "Besides the trick is not to get caught. Every time I meet you, your poise and grace causes you to knock something over and create such a ruckus that you nearly wake up half the castle."

"I think you're exaggerating," scoffed the boy. He attempted to stand up, but his feet got tangled in the blanket they were sitting under and he toppled over. The girl leaned backwards and rolled around on the ground, laughing uproariously. The boy picked himself up off the ground, his face bright red all the way up to his flaming red hair.

"Stop laughing!" he insisted, smiling himself. He kneeled down and began tickling his girlfriend's stomach in revenge.

"Ah! He he he! Stop that! Stop it!" she shrieked gleefully, between gasps of air. The boy finally relented and they both collapsed back on the ground, giggling. "Arthur Weasley, you are a terror," the girl laughed.

_ARTHUR WEASLEY?! Grossgrossgrossgrossgrossgross! Ron's parents?! Snogging?! EW. _

"Great, now I'm going to have to gouge my eyes out," sighed Harry. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were snogging again. "Ahh!" yelled Harry, clamping his hand over his eyes. "Stop it!" Naturally, his words echoed uselessly into the night. Then, much to his relief, (though he felt bad for the Weasleys) Filch's voice drifted up from the floor below.

"What's that you hear, my sweet? Students out of bounds…" he cackled.

"That bloody cat…" grumbled Mr. Weasley.

"Come on, Arty, we can sneak down the side staircase," said Mrs. Weasley urgently, grabbing her future husband's hand and pulling him towards the trapdoor.

_Arty? _Harry suppressed a snicker and followed them as the raced down the stairs. They finally paused, flushed and disheveled, in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"_Stardust_," panted Molly. The Fat Lady, who was busy snoring loudly, was suddenly startled from her sleep with a yelp. Her face was covered in a layer of pale green goop. "_Stardust_," she repeated in an impatient voice.

"And where were you?" demanded the Fat Lady, peeling what looked like a cucumber off of one of her eyes. She surveyed them through a single, narrowed eye.

"Nowhere," said Arthur in a would-be casual voice.

"And where exactly is 'nowhere'?" hissed the Fat Lady, her voice rising.

"We got lost in the castle," said Molly innocently.

"FOR SEVEN HOURS?!" shrieked the Fat Lady.

"We're very sorry to wake you, it won't happen again," apologized Molly.

"Well…all right," said the Fat Lady. The portrait finally began to open.

"And nice cucumbers," said Arthur, grinning. The portrait slammed shut again. The Fat Lady, apparently already sensitive about being caught in a facemask, exploded with fury.

"HERE I AM TAKING THIS RIDICULOUS JOB, GUARDING A COMMOM ROOM FULL OF UNGRATEFUL CHILDREN WHO WAKE ME UP AT ALL HOURS OF THE NIGHT! YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE IN BED! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE IN BED SEVEN HOURS AGO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING UP? I'LL TELL YOU WHAT YOU'RE DOING! SNEAKING AROUND DOING MERLIN KNOWS WHAT!" she shrieked. Molly winced and elbowed Arthur in the ribs. Arthur shrugged apologetically, also wincing at the high-pitched shrieks. The Fat Lady was still going strong.

"CAN'T I GET ONE DECENT NIGHT'S SLEEP? I NEED MY BEAUTY REST! ALL STUDENTS SHOULD BE ASLEEP RIGHT NOW! RIGHT NOW!" she continued. "WELL? WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELVES?!" They stared blankly at her for a moment.

"_Stardust_?" offered Molly. The Fat Lady, still scowling, opened the portrait. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley climbed in, smiling broadly.

"Do you think she'll tell on us?" asked Mr. Weasley.

"Oh yeah," said Mrs. Weasley. "Enjoy the next few hours, they're going to be the only ones in which you're not trouble for a long, long time….

**AN: _REVIEW!!!!!!!!_**


	17. Walks Alone

**AN:** Urg…I was writing my other story and then I got a little bit of writer's block for this one…but I'm back!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Except this pen. Yeah! It's an awesome pen.

000

It was a cloudy, overcast afternoon. A cool breeze was ruffling the trees, but Harry couldn't feel it. Lupin, a much younger Lupin, strode quickly down the garden path with Harry trailing behind him. They were quickly approaching a large house, constructed of dark, reddish brick. Something faint, screaming, was echoing around the cool air. As they got nearer, Harry distinctly heard a woman shrieking.

"YOU GET HIM BACK THIS INSTANT!" shrieked a voice. The voice was quickly followed by the tinkling of glass, perhaps of something that had been hurled at the wall rather enthusiastically.

"But, honey, he's just," came another, male voice, but he was cut off by more screaming.

"Oh, dear," muttered Lupin, speeding up his pace slightly. He was clutching a thick, aged looking book under one of his arms and, as usual, his fraying coat looked like it had seen better days. Harry hurried after him.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING! I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WOULD LET _OUR SON_!"

"He's fine! He'll be back any minute now, Sirius just took him for a quick spin, so—"

"AAH!" Another breakable object met its untimely demise against a solid surface with a loud crash.

Lupin was now standing in front of the yard, looking indecisively at the front door. He could ring it, but it was unlikely that it would be heard, considering the argument was taking place at the backdoor. Harry walked passed Lupin into the backyard to get a better look at the action. A young James Potter toppled backward out the back door, narrowly avoiding landing face first on the ground.

"YOU GO GET HIM THIS INSTANT!" shrieked a female voice. Harry assumed it was his mother. She had never been around to berate Harry for doing anything during his childhood, but if she had, he could imagine it would sound something like this.

"Ok, ok, I will right now," said James in a voice that one would use to plead with an angry dragon. "I just need my—"

A broomstick hurtled through the air at his head, but he caught it without flinching. James sighed, mounted the broom, and kicked off into the air, muttering about "harmless fun."

"I heard that!" hollered Lily. She stomped out the door and stood on the patio, shaking her fist at her husband. "I'll give you 'harmless fun' you—!" She suddenly stopped yelling. "Oh, hullo, Remus. How are you?" she said brightly, as if she had been perfectly chipper the entire day. Remus stared at her incredulously.

"I'm fine, Lily," he said tentatively. "How are things in Godric's Hollow?"

Lily frowned slightly. "They were fine until my mature, adult husband decided to let our mature, responsible friend Sirius take our very, very young, frail child on his _flying motorbike_."

"I see…" said Lupin. Harry noticed he seemed to be suppressing a grin, with some difficulty. "I brought you the book."

"Oh, thank you! Come inside," offered Lily, opening the door. Harry looked around the house. It was large but cozy, and he felt a twinge of sadness that he didn't have a single memory of this place. He might even have grown up in this house…if it wasn't in ruins, of course. She and Remus sat down at the table and she offered him a cup of tea, which he accepted. "I can't believe you managed to find this," said Lily in disbelief, picking up the book and thumbing through it.

"It wasn't easy," chuckled Lupin. "That book is at least 600 years old."

"Well, it's holding up remarkably well." Lily gently blew the dust off the cover, allowing Harry to catch a glimpse at the title. The peeling silver letters on its yellowish, rapidly decaying coverread_ Ancient Blood Rites and Magicks_.

Lupin paused for a moment, then gazed meaningfully into her eyes. "Lily, if you don't mind me asking…what do you want with such an obscure volume anyway?"

Lily shifted uncomfortably. She closed the book and set it down on the table. "Remus, James and I are…going away soon. Into hiding," she said, changing the subject. Remus opened his mouth, but she continued. "I don't know how long. II just want to thank you, and whatever happens…"

There was a sound of the backdoor banging shut, followed by hearty laughter. Sirius and James had obviously returned from their little adventure. They both had, ruffled, wind-blown hair and broad grins on their faces as they entered the kitchen. Sirius was wearing full Muggle attire, including a leather jacket. Harry saw a tiny bundle of blankets cradled in his arms.

"See, Lils? He's fine! I think the little tyke is going to be a great flyer someday, he just loved it up in the air—" Sirius and James both stopped dead when they spotted Lupin in the kitchen, the smiles fading from their faces.

"Moony," said James curtly. Sirius was silent. He remained on the other side of the kitchen, now holding Harry rather protectively. Neither asked what Lupin was doing there, but the question seemed to hang heavily in the air. A few moments of very tense, awkward silence passed before Lupin stood up. The expression on his face was closed, but Harry got the impression he was suffering intensely.

"I have overstayed my welcome," said Lupin quietly. "Goodbye, Lily." He kissed her gently on the forehead. "Whatever happens, good luck." Lupin cast a longing glance over at James and Sirius, then to Harry. He seemed to be considering saying goodbye, but the look on Sirius's face implied that he shouldn't. Harry got the general feeling Sirius would murder Lupin if he took a step forward. Lupin walked to the opposite end of the kitchen to the front door. He paused one last time, looking around at the people in the room—his friends. James and Sirius stared at him with hard, cold eyes. Lily looked at him with compassion, and perhaps a hint of uncertainty. Lupin opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. The door slammed shut behind him as he swept outside.

"You two—you shouldn't…" began Lily. Lupin was outside the house, in the midst of the garden. Harry was standing next to him. Somehow, Harry could hear the conversation in the house as clearly as if her were standing in the next room. Apparently, Lupin could too, because he was standing outside, looking at the door he had just exited, listening. It was pretty weird. Not the weirdest thing Harry had indirectly experienced in the past few hours, but it ranked pretty high up there.

"Shouldn't what?" snapped James. "I don't know how you can even associate with him."

"He's my friend!" protested Lily. "He's your friend!"

"Was," said James coolly. "You know what they said after the last Order meeting. It has to be someone. It's him, Lily. He's the spy! Who else would it be? He gave away the Prewetts last week! You should stay away from him," added James in a low voice.

"I—I'm tired," said Lily in a defeated voice. "I just can't believe it…"

"I know, Lils," said James in a comforting voice. "It's hard to take, but there's no one else. He betrayed all of us…"

"Eavesdropping?" said a voice behind Lupin. Both Lupin and Harry jumped slightly and whirled around. "You can hear them, can't you?" Sirius was standing a few feet away from him, his arms folded. He must have slipped out the back door while James and Lily were talking.

"Sirius—I—" started Lupin.

"What?" snapped Sirius venomously. "Betrayed us? Sold your only friends to Voldemort?"

"No! I would never! I haven't done anything, I swear," pleaded Lupin, a hint of desperation in his voice. "Please…I don't know who it is! Why would I ever—"

"What the hell happened to you mate?" asked Sirius, shaking his head. "I thought you were one of us…but you're not even human, are you?"

Lupin's mouth opened, horrified, but again he said nothing. He always appeared a little sad, but Harry had never seen him looking so—crushed. Finally, Lupin turned his back to the Potters house and walked away slowly. Sirius remained on the Potter's lawn, standing guard like a sentinel. His eyes bored into Lupin's back as he walked away. Somewhere inside, baby Harry was crying. Harry could hear the sound of his own wails growing fainter as Lupin slowly moved farther down the path.

000

"He's sooo cute," giggled Eleanor, swishing her straw around in her glass of butterbeer.

"I know," sighed Minerva. "But he's so sad sometimes…and he never talks to me. I used to thing is was just me, but I think he won't talk to anyone. He must really hate living in that Muggle orphanage."

"I heard that Muggle orphanages serve gruel all year round," said Eleanor seriously.

"That makes sense though," said Minerva. "I mean they have to buy all their food and make it by hand, don't they?"

"Eww…" said Eleanor. "Ooh, if you and Tom had kids, what would you name them?"

"I don't know, but if they were boys, I hope they'd get his hair. And his bone structure. He is so handsome!"

"Oh I know!"

Lupin was fighting the urge to bash his head against the table. It wouldn't have done him any good anyway, considering he was still incorporeal. He was stuck inside the Three Broomsticks, listening to teenage girls prattle and drink butterbeer, and he was nearing the edge of his sanity. Not just any girls, mind you. His former Transfiguration professor had a black and white polka dotted bow in her hair and she was fantasizing about naming the children she planned to have with Voldemort.

"Not Eugene, that's a horrible name!"

"I have an Uncle named Eugene!"

"Well they're _my_ children, why would I name them after _your_ Uncle?"

"What if it's a girl, then?"

"Regina?"

"No!"

"I have an Aunt Regina!"

"Stop talking about your silly relatives!"

"How about Victoria?"

"Ooh, that's a pretty name! I hope she doesn't get my hair, it's so flat and boring…"

"Don't be silly! It's very pretty."

"You're _too_ nice Eleanor."

"Must ignore—senseless prattling—" thought Lupin desperately. He closed his eyes and concentrated, attempting to reach outside of the memory he was caught inside. He couldn't sense Harry anywhere, but then again he had no idea what the hell he was doing. _Why_ had he flipped out and separated them in the first place? And where was Dumbledore? If he hadn't come to retrieve them by now, something bad must have happened…

Well, the best thing he could do now was find Harry. Or at least get as far away from gossiping teenage girls as he possibly could. He held his wand out in front of him and strode away from Minerva and Eleanor. They were now discussing the little house in the country where Minerva and Lord Voldemort would raise their three children a pet. (Two boys and a girl and a baby Krup). As he got farther away, the room began to blur out of focus. Finally, he was standing on the edge between a blur of color and memory, and a dark abyss. He held his breath and jumped into the blackness, out of the memory, hoping desperately that he would land in another memory and not in endless darkness. At least he wouldn't have to hear anymore about Minerva and Tom, the _cutest_ boy at Hogwarts. Ugh.

000

Harry and Lupin were standing in front of large house that Harry had never seen before. Harry couldn't tell how old Lupin was at the time this memory took place, but it had to be at least ten years ago, maybe more. Lupin rapped on the door. It was constructed of a shining, dark, almost black wood and there was a large silver knocker in the center of it. Lupin waited awhile, but no one answered the door. He rapped again, looking warily at the silver knocker. Still no answer. Sighing, Remus carefully wrapped his sleeve around his hand a gingerly grabbed the heavy, silver knocker. After a few firm thumps, the door opened. A tall, middle-aged woman with sleek silver hair pulled open the door. She surveyed Lupin's shabby clothes with some disdain for a moment before speaking.

"You must be the exterminator," she said curtly.

Remus nodded politely. "Yes ma'am."

"Please come in," she said, stepping aside to allow Lupin in the door.

"Thank you," said Lupin graciously. She shut the door behind him and started briskly down the hall. Lupin followed her. "What exactly is the problem?"

"My husband believes there is a boggart in the upstairs hall closet," she said quickly. "He, unfortunately, is out of town on business. My grandchildren have had quite a fright last night when they tried to open the linen closet. I want that creature exterminated."

"You're sure it's a boggart?" pressed Lupin. Harry noticed the floors for the entire house were constructed from the same, dark, wood the door was created from. They were now climbing a staircase.

"I only have the testimony of my grandchildren to go on. From what they said, it seemed like we had a closet full of acromantulas, so I don't know how reliable their opinions are," she explained. She and Lupin were now upstairs. She opened the door to a dimly lit hallway and Remus stepped inside. "Thank you for your promptness," she said, before slamming the door shut.

"Okay…" said Lupin slowly. He pulled out his wand and began cautiously walking down the darkened corridor. A white door at the end of the hall began trembling and emitting loud banging noises. Lupin flattened himself up against the wall and pointed his wand at the door. The banging was getting louder. Suddenly, the door burst open, revealing a full moon. Lupin flinched slightly but his hand remained steady.

"_Ridd—_" he began, but at that moment, something swooped out of the closet and soared through the air, howling. It looked like a cross between a ghost and a poltergeist. Lupin, spun around to face to the…whatever it was. Harry instinctively pulled his wand out, but he knew he couldn't do anything to help.

"Ghoul," muttered Lupin under his breath. The ghoul began howling louder. It swooped low, causing Lupin to duck. It picked up a large antique vase on it's way down and chucked it at Lupin's head.

"Gahh!" Lupin ducked and rolled across the hallway, using some extremely colorful language. The ghoul rammed into the wall, causing a huge gilded mirror to fall free of the wall and zoom down towards Lupin. He dove out of the way just as the huge mirror smashed against the floor and shattered.

"Bloody—stupid—" he panted. The boggart, apparently upset that it was being ignored, had now transformed itself into a huge, hairy spider and crawled free out of the closet. Remus fired a Stunning Charm at the ghoul, which landed in the closet behind the giant spider with a resounding crash. A faint buzzing sound was building a gradual crescendo from beneath the broken shelves.

"_Riddiculus_!" he yelled, turning on the boggart-acromantula. It immediately shrank down to the size of a Knut. "Ha," said Remus flatly. He was about to crush the spider with his shoe when a swarm of Doxies hurtled out of the closet in a dark cloud, buzzing furiously. "Are you kidding me!" cried Lupin as the Doxies descended upon him. He was too busing swatting Doxies to notice that the ghoul was recovering. It grabbed a heavy blanket from the linen closet and dropped it on Remus's head. Remus, who was now backed up against the wall by at least a dozen irate Doxies and a brand new boggart-banshee, yelped and began flailing his arms with even more tenacity. He finally managed to get the blanket off of his head. He paused for a moment and surveyed the situation around him. Moving quickly, he flung the blanket over the Doxies and flung the bag of Doxies at the ghoul. The Doxies and the ghoul flew backwards into the closet and Remus slammed the door shut. He rounded back on the boggart. The banshee turned back into a full moon, hovering inches from Remus's wand tip.

"_RIDDICULUS_!" he yelled. The moon turned into cockroach, and Lupin smashed the cockroach under his shoe with more enthusiasm that was probably necessary. He pulled a vial of something out of his pocket and approached the closet door. After pausing and listening for a moment, he flung open the door and emptied the entire container of Doxycide into the closet. After a few moments, the closet went silent. With a satisfied smile, Lupin pulled out a tiny box and expanded it until it was a about the size of a grindylow cage. (Was it a grindylow cage? Harry wondered.) Lupin opened the door for one last time. The ghoul leapt out at him, only to land within the cage with a squeal of dismay. Lupin fell backwards against the wall and slammed the cage door shut.

"Finally," he grunted. After repairing the various things he had broken in his battle with the ghoul, he headed downstairs. The woman was standing the kitchen. She observed Remus critically as he came down the stairs.

"What is _that_?" she demanded eying the ghoul in the cage.

"I believe it's a ghoul," said Remus, a little out of breath. "You also had a boggart and rather a lot of Doxies living in that closet. The ghoul emitted a shrill, moaning wail and clawed at the bars of it's cage.

"Kill it," said the woman loudly.

"Are—are you sure?" said Lupin, uncertainly. "It's not dangerous, just noisy. I could take it somewhere if you—"

"I am not paying you to relocate the creatures in my house," she snapped. "I am paying you to exterminate them."

"I—" Lupin stared at her. "All right…" Looking extremely pained, he sat the cage on the counter and aimed his wand at the creature. "Avada Kedavra," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. There was a flash of green light and the creature collapsed, dead.

"Very well," said the woman in her usual, brisk manner. She dropped a few pieces of silver in Lupin's pale hand. He looked at the money.

"Isn't the usual fee 40 sickles?" he asked quietly.

"Hmm…" said the woman, her beady eyes narrowing. "Are you affiliated with the Ministry's Disposal of Dangerous Creatures Department?"

"No."

"Are you affiliated with the Schamander Extermination Services?"

"No."

"Are you affiliated with _any_ industry standard association?"

"No," said Lupin slowly. "You might say I'm…independently employed."

"Hmm…then I guess you don't _have_ any previously stipulated payment, do you?" she said haughtily. Lupin was silent, his jaw clenched. If he was furious, Harry decided he was hiding it remarkably well.

The woman opened the front door for Lupin. "Thank you for your services. Mr…what did you say your name was again?"

"I didn't," said Lupin curtly. He grabbed the grindylow cage and marched out of the house.

**AN:** Ah, career paths…sorry about the angst. I'm a sucker for angst. And review! I'm a review slut. Seriously. If I get more reviews, I'll totally post another chapter.


	18. Growing Pains

**AN:** This story gets updated less often but it seems to be more popular. SO here ya go everybody. More stuff! **Warning:** this chapter contains semi-adult themes of abusive family drama angsty melodrama stuff, so beware.

Morning sunlight streamed in the windows of the Shrieking Shack. From his spot on the wooden floor, teenage Lupin sat up with a groan. His friends were standing around the room chattering, but they all turned to him when he sat up. Harry turned as well and walked over to him.

"Morning, Moony," said Sirius cheerfully.

Lupin opened his mouth to speak, but instead made a disgusted face and spit on the floor. There was dried blood caked all over his face, running down onto his chin and neck.

"Eww," observed Harry, to no one in particular.

"Gah…" Lupin made a gagging noise and spit out more dried blood. Suddenly, he realized what he was spitting out and looked alarmed. "Ah—! What the hell happened last night?" He pulled his robe off the bed next to him and began frantically wiping his face, only pausing to make retching noises and spit more blood onto the floor. His friends sniggered, looking completely unperturbed by his distress.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" asked James. He was about Harry's own height, perhaps even his own age. Much to Harry's displeasure, he rumpled his hair. Lupin wasn't around to ask, so he just had to guess.

Lupin looked pensive. "I—I remember we went towards Hogsmeade," he began.

"And?"

Lupin furrowed his brow in concentration. "Eh…it gets kind of hazy after that…"

"Well, we went a little too far into the village for you, apparently," offered Sirius, smirking.

"Yeah, you caught the scent of people, and well…" explained James.

"You went bonkers," chirped Peter. Lupin stared at them each in turn as they recounted the events of the previous night, all looking supremely amused—except for Lupin, who looked distressed.

"Yeah, so we dragged you back the Shack."

"But you were still all blood-lusty and completely nutters."

"So Padfoot nipped out into the Forest and nicked a rabbit for you."

"What!" said Lupin disbelievingly.

"A rabbit," said James, shrugging.

"You totally ate it," said Sirius in a highly amused voice.

"Tore it to bits actually," clarified James merrily.

"It was gross," added Peter sincerely.

"I _ate_ it?" Lupin looked mortified. He continued to scrub his mouth frantically, even though it was pretty much clean by this point.

"Yep."

"Then you went over there and passed out."

Lupin still looked upset, which caused his friends to burst out laughing. Also, he was still on the floor. They eased him up onto the bed. He looked a little shaky and exhausted.

"It was a rabbit Moony. You didn't eat anyone." James clapped him on the back, smiling reassuringly.

"Yes but—" protested Lupin. He paused and considered for a moment, then covered his face and joined his friends in laughing stupidly.

"Moony, terror of innocent rabbits," chided Sirius.

"Hide your cats and toads!" said James in a tone of mock warning.

Lupin continued to laugh. "Shut up Prongs!"

There was a shuffling sound from outside the door.

"Oops, that'll be Pomfrey," whispered James. He pulled out his invisibility cloak and the three of them huddled underneath it, leaving Lupin alone on the tattered bed.

"See you at lunch, mate," said Peter quietly as he disappeared under the cloak next to his friends.

"Yeah, we're having rabbit stew!" said Sirius. Harry couldn't see the look on his face, but he imagined he was grinning evilly.

"That is not funny, Padfoot!" hissed Lupin in a low voice, but he was smiling. There was a chorus of snickers from the empty air that faded towards the door. Mere moments later, Madam Pomfrey appeared in the Shack.

"Remus dear!" she said in a concerned voice. She rushed forward to help him up off the bed. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," Remus assured her. He smiled gently at her astonishment when he was able to stand up on his own.

"My, my," she said, shaking her head. "You certainly have come a long way. I remember when you were small, I honestly thought I might walk in here one morning and find you had bitten your own head off!"

Remus chuckled. "It wouldn't have surprised me either, Madam Pomfrey."

She produced a blanket and insisted on draping it around his shoulders. Apparently realizing resistance was futile, Lupin accepted the blanket and followed Madam Pomfrey out of the shack, walking entirely on his own power.

The matron smiled. "Perhaps we can chalk it up to age and maturity?"

"I hope," said Remus sincerely.

000

"Right—Harry. Find Harry," thought Lupin. He was still in the middle of a roaring, black void. He shut his eyes tightly and concentrated on finding Harry. Was it working? He opened his eyes, and was consequently rewarded with another glimpse at the endless void. Apparently not.

"Bloody Pensives," grumbled Lupin. He concentrated harder. "Harry Potter! Take me to Harry Potter, you bloody void!" Suddenly the roaring stopped. Sounds and lights crept slowly out of nowhere and began to solidify. Lupin looked around as the scene grew clearer.

"Harry?" he called hopefully. No answer. "Bugger."

He paced around the now fully formed memory. He was in the Shrieking Shack. Again. Oh joy. A pale Ron Weasley was huddled in the corner, clutching a squealing rat and whimpering in fright, blood pouring from his mangled leg. Lupin turned, coming face to face with the back of Harry's head. "Harry!" said Lupin in relief. "Oh, Merlin, I'm sorry about getting us separated—" Harry ignored him. He looked shorter than usual, thought Lupin.

"The dog!" screamed Ron frantically. "He's an Animagus!"

Harry and Hermione whirled around and stared in horror at the leering, sunken face of Sirius Black.

"_Expelliarmus_," croaked Black.

In a last ditch effort to prove Harry wasn't actually Harry, Lupin reached out to grab his shoulder, but only encountered empty air. Well—he had found Harry. Quite possibly his own memory—of Harry. Not the actual Harry, who was probably still floating around somewhere around in the collective memories of the Order of the Phoenix.

"Fantastic," said Lupin dejectedly. He sighed and walked away as Harry jumped on Black and attempted to strangle him with his bare hands. Maybe he would have better luck elsewhere.

000

Harry was in the middle of a crowded London street, people bustling rapidly past—well—through him. Across the street, a very fat, very young boy was throwing a temper tantrum in the middle of the sidewalk and a tall, bony woman was trying desperately to comfort him. Passersby walked deliberately around the obstacle, either ignoring it completely or throwing reproachful looks at the woman.

"I w—w—want the p—pony," screeched the boy, rolling around on the pavement like a swollen, peachy beach ball and bawling. He pointed a flailing, fat fist at the store window, in which a shiny, red rocking horse gleamed seductively.

"No, no, no, Dinky Diddydums!" begged the bony woman, exposing her large, horse-like teeth. "Mummy will buy you the pony, just stop crying!"

Behind her, a slight little boy with untidy black hair was standing patiently and holding a stack of packages that were, collectively, larger than he was. The boy looked sad, lonely and very unobtrusive. Harry recognized his younger self with some degree of sadness. He was probably about five or six. In retrospect, Harry mused, he probably should have dumped the packages all over Dudley's sniveling head and bolted for freedom. He was pretty sure the Leaky Cauldron was around here somewhere.

An obvious thought struck Harry. Whose memory was this? It certainly wasn't his own—who else in the Order…He looked around. A tall man in a trench coat was standing next to him, staring intently at the scene across the street. A very shabby trench coat. People streamed by on either side of him. He was wearing a hat pushed down low over his face. A few bandages were just barely visible behind his upturned collar. Apparently he did not want to be recognized, but Harry wasn't sure by whom. His shadowed eyes and pallid complexion indicated that he was probably recovering from another 'rough' night.

"Lupin?" said Harry in disbelief. Lupin of course, didn't respond. He stared across the street at Harry and his surrogate family, a look of acute pain registering in his amber eyes.

So, Lupin had seen him at least, before he had received his letter. Harry found that he was somewhat irritated that Lupin hadn't even said 'hello'. He knew for certain that other wizards had, even if he had no idea who those strange people were at the time. By this time, Dudley stopped screaming, thanks to the soothing braying of Aunt Petunia.

"Which one do you want, Duddy dearest?" cooed Aunt Petunia in a sickly sweet voice. She stroked Dudley's fat head as they both looked into the store window.

"That one," said Dudley. He raised a chubby finger quite violently towards the window, smashing into an unsuspecting Harry and knocking the precariously balanced packages in his small hands all over the sidewalk.

"Harry!" screeched Aunt Petunia. "Don't be clumsy! Pick those up, now! And if anything is broken—ooh, you—will be scrubbing the entire kitchen floor!" she huffed. Dudley grinned smugly in Harry's direction as Aunt Petunia turned and quickly ushered him into the store.

"He so did that on purpose," muttered Harry, glaring as his past self crouched down and obediently picked up the packages. Next to him, Lupin flinched. He seemed to be struggling internally about whether or not he should cross the street.

Something stirred in Harry's memory. He remembered this day, despite his young age. He was pretty sure it had been one of the rare occasions he had performed magic unintentionally. Sure enough, little Harry picked up one package and opened it, revealing a shattered glass vase.

From beside him, Lupin drew his wand slowly out of his coat pocket and held it loosely, tip pointing towards the ground.

Little Harry emitted a whimper and closed the box, looking around hopelessly.

Older Harry looked on in amazement as Lupin gave a stealthy, barely noticeable twitch of his wand and pointed it at the box in Harry's arms without raising his own arm.

Little Harry opened the box again, revealing a perfectly normal, though hideously ugly, pink vase that was now once again fully intact. His eyes opened wide in amazement.

Lupin looked at little Harry, very glumly, and replaced his wand into his pocket. The people on the street continued to hustle past, oblivious. Lupin flinched again. He made a move, as if to step forward across the street, but changed his mind mid-step and froze.

Teenage Harry shook his head. What the hell was he doing? Did he just want a glimpse of his best friend's son after a particularly difficult night? Why didn't he say anything to him? It seemed to be one of those ridiculous connections between the magical and Muggle world that lurked just below the surface, waiting to be realized…Remus Lupin, an old friend of his father's and his future Professor, had passed him on a crowded London street, and helped him repair a vase without saying a word to him. He looked at Lupin again, the look on Lupin's face stirring sympathy within him. Perhaps he wasn't _allowed_ to speak to him, or some bullock like that, thought Harry bitterly.

Lupin stared miserably at little Harry for a long time, then finally tore his gaze away and pulled his hat lower over his face. He turned and slunk away, his shoulders hunched, staring down despondently at the street.

000

Lupin was in a dark, sinister looking room that reminded him strongly of Grimmauld Place. It somehow looked gloomy and unwelcoming, despite the fact that it was spotlessly clean. No Harry in sight. He wasn't even close this time, bugger all.

A teenage Snape was curled in a deep green velvet armchair, his greasy, beak-like nose buried a book. He looked to be about 13 or 14.

"Oy," said Lupin when he saw him. This must be his childhood home. Lupin looked around. There were a quantity of shrunken heads sitting in the glass case next to the book shelf, surrounded by creepy looking silver instruments. The bookshelf was house to a number of large, heavy volumes, most of them relating to the Dark Arts and a number of which he had spotted in Grimmauld Place. In fact, the entire house looked rather like a museum for the Dark Arts. How quaint.

Snape's eyes flitted towards the clock on the wall, then back to his book. He was nervous—he was waiting for something. He closed his book and set it on the end table. Rising from his chair, he set off down the darkened hallway. Lupin trailed behind him, hoping dearly that the adult Snape wouldn't stumble upon the pensive anytime soon.

There were angry shouts and quite suddenly an unsettling crashing noise from behind a door at the end of the hall. Teenage Snape frowned and tentatively pushed open the door, revealing a man and a woman involved in an argument. The man had Snape's cold, jet black eyes and greasy, but deep brown hair. He seemed to have pushed the black haired woman into the dresser with some force. The both stared at Snape in the doorway, the man with cold fury and the woman with abject fear. The man straightened up and released the woman's shoulders, causing her to slide down the dresser onto the floor. Her face was tearstained and there were bruises in various stages of healing up and down her pale arms.

"Severus," she said in a trembling voice.

"Silence!" roared the man. He lifted her up and flung her backwards onto the bed with a wave of his wand. She flew backwards and slammed into the headboard, whimpering.

Snape looked at both of them silently for a moment. "I thought you said you were going to stop this," he said quietly.

"Stop what?" growled his father. He drew himself up menacingly and advanced upon his son, who drew backwards uncertainly. "You are weak," he spat. He placed his palm against Snape's chest shoved him violently backwards against the door. The door slammed shut as Snape's head collided against it with a sickening crack. "Weak. You are just like her."

Lupin grimaced. He should go. This was really none of his business. Unfortunately, curiosity got the better of him and he stood transfixed. It was rather like watching a car crash in slow motion.

Snape's mother seemed to have found her voice again. "S—Septimus," she said in a small, trembling voice. "Septimus, I don't want him practicing that—_that _anymore. It's dark—dangerous, I—I don't like it…" The man silenced her with a glare.

"No son of mine is going to be weak!" he hissed venomously. "Isn't it enough, with your weakness polluting his blood already?" He turned to Snape, who was still pinned up against the door, his eyes wide with fright.

"_Dark_ is just a label that weak people use, do you understand that, boy?" He was practically shouting. He grabbed Snape's collar and shook him violently. "_We _are_ powerful. We _are _strong_. I do not tolerate _weakness_!" Septimus flung open the door and threw Snape onto the floor in the hallway, where he crashed into the wall and sunk down, terrified.

"Get out of my sight!" bellowed his father. Snape scrambled to his feet and raced down the hall, into another room. There was another crashing sound, punctuated by a woman screaming. He flung himself onto the bed and sat, staring forward into total darkness, his jaw clenched. Tears poured silently down his face.

Lupin swallowed hard. It was different, he already knew, to have a family that cared about you. He looked at Snape mournfully, wondering how someone so obviously broken inside could be so unwilling open up to let anyone help him. But then again, he wasn't alone in his practice.

**AN:** That was kind of weird, I don't know. Did you guys like my eh…'take' on Snape's shadowy past. Too weird? Too angsty? Let me know!


	19. Belonging

**AN:** I can't come up with stuff for this story using creativity, guesswork, or brainstorming. Nothing works. I get sudden random flashes of inspiration and then just go with it. It's very odd. The next (angsty) chapter is here! Woot.

Teenage Lupin sat on the far end of a large red couch in the crowded Griffyndor common room. The flames in the crackling fireplace next to him danced and glimmered on the golden surface of his prefect badge. He was surrounded by books, and was deeply absorbed in whatever he was writing. He was frowning deeply and he looked worn and tired. Well—he looked slightly above average in the looking terminally ill department—this was Lupin after all.

Harry leaned over and surveyed Lupin's essay. He had almost nothing written, except for a heading.

_Remus Lupin_

_NEWT Defense Against the Dark Arts_

_February 27, 1977_

Lupin scowled more and finally wrote down the assignment title.

_Ways of Recognizing and Killing Werewolves_

Harry winced. _Ouch._

Lupin sighed darkly and tapped his quill roughly against the parchment repeatedly, covering the margin with dots. He stared into the fireplace for several minutes, making absolutely no progress on his paper.

The portrait swung open and James, Sirius, and Peter stepped inside. They were chatting with moderate levels of enthusiasm, but they immediately fell silent when they noticed Lupin.

James looked down at the floor, casually examining the quill in his hand. Peter's eyes flew to the ceiling. Sirius looked at Remus guiltily, like a small child who had accidentally broken his mother's favorite antique vase. He gave Remus a weak, wavering smile. Lupin returned his gaze with a closed, impassive expression. Oddly enough, Harry noticed, the expression seemed significantly more frosty and bitter than a simply glare would have been.

Sirius joined James in looking at the floor. They turned and headed towards the couch at the opposite end of the common room. Peter stood in the middle of the noisy common room, looking wildly back and forth between his friends. He threw a fleeting glance at Remus before running over to James and Sirius and sitting down. James looked at Remus apologetically. The three of them began conversing in low tones, occasionally glancing up at Remus, who had gone back to his extremely pleasant homework assignment. Lupin—and by default Harry—could hear what they were saying very clearly.

"Have you talked to him since the, eh…?" asked James.

"No," said Sirius unhappily. "Well—he said absolutely nothing for a week—now he's moved on slightly. He said a few things to me yesterday…"

"Like what?" inquired Peter.

Sirius began rattling off phrases. "Yes—no—leave me alone—the charms homework is on page 342, Sirius, I know you already know that, leave me alone—I don't want to talk to you—go away—please go away—I can't talk to you right now—please leave me alone now—I'm busy, leave me alone—"

"Yeah, ok, mate," said James, cutting him off. "Did you try to apologize?"

"Yes, I _tried_, Prongs," said Sirius, irritated. "He won't talk to me."

"Is it that surprising?" said James softly. "Because of _you_ he almost—I mean, that would have _destroyed_ him…"

"I know," said Sirius heavily.

"Do you think he can hear us now?" inquired Peter. All three of them paused and stared across the room at him.

"Moony?" said Sirius tentatively. "I'm sorry. I am. I'm really sorry. I'm really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really—"

Wordlessly, Remus slammed his books shut, threw everything into his bag, and stormed out of the common room. Harry followed him through the portrait hall and down the darkened corridor. He continued to trudge along, striding purposefully, with a look of muted anger and frustration on his face. Poor Lupin, thought Harry, he must be having a bad month. At least Harry now knew the reason behind his extremely foul mood. Lupin rushed right past a pretty, red haired girl as he turned a corner.

"Hullo, Remus," said the girl abruptly. Lupin's head snapped around.

"Hello, Lily," he said, his already mostly expressionless face softening.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked gently, falling into step beside him. "It must be nearly 10 o'clock."

"Patrolling," he said immediately. It wasn't totally false, Harry decided. They were wandering around the corridors.

"Again?" Lily laughed. It was a beautiful sound, like the tinkling of tiny silver bells. The sound echoed strangely in Harry's mind, like a half-forgotten dream, trying to resurface in his memory… "Honestly Remus, you've been patrolling every night for the past week and a half! We only have to patrol two nights a week." She shook her head. "Where are your friends?"

"They're…" he trailed off uncomfortablely. "I haven't…._spoken_ to them much lately."

"Those arrogant berks finally drive you crazy?" she asked. "One prank too many. Had to happen some time." She laughed again.

"Something like that…" said Remus miserably. "Lily, do you have the Charms notes from last Monday, Tuesday, and, erm, Wednesday, too?"

"Yes," she said, rummaging through her bag. "Do you need them?" She pulled out a roll or parchment.

"Yes, thanks," he said gratefully, taking them from her hand. There was a silence.

"It was James, wasn't it?" she said suddenly.

"What?" asked Remus.

"James!" she repeated. "He did something so incredibly stupid and offensive that you can't even bring yourself to ask for his notes!"

"N—no," he said. "It wasn't James. James actually—if it hadn't been for him I would have—" He shivered slightly. Lily looked at him very curiously but didn't press him any further.

"Sirius can be a prat, too," she said matter-of-factly.

Lupin looked at the ground. They passed by several large windows, the faint light of the almost new moon casting pale shadows on their faces as they walked.

Lily looked sympathetically at the sad expression on his face. "Oh, Remus, whatever happened, I'm sure you four will make up eventually!" she said passionately.

"Thanks Lily," he said, giving her a small smile.

"10 points from Hufflepuff!" said an oily voice from another corridor. "And if you don't stop crying, it shall be 15!" It was far enough away that Lily probably couldn't hear it. Lupin could, and incidentally, Harry could as well. Frowning, Remus turned the corner and walked towards the sound. Lily and Harry turned and followed.

"Uh, oh, Remus is on a mission," she Lily, smiling. "You do have a certain knack for finding trouble, you know."

"It's a gift," said Lupin flatly. The two (three if you counted the invisible and intangible boy behind them) of them stopped short in front of Snape. He looked younger, and actually fouler than usual. There was a prefect badge on his chest as well. He was busily using his authority to "discipline" a sobbing Hufflepuff first year.

"What's going on here?" asked Lily, firmly but gently.

Snape looked back and forth between her and Lupin in disgust. "This child is out of bounds," he said, indicating the tiny, terrified looking boy. "And out past curfew. That is in direct violation of—" He glared pointedly at Lupin. "—_school rules_."

"Granted," said Lupin quietly. He turned to the little boy. "What were you doing out past curfew?" he asked him gently.

"I w—was looking for m—my p—pet toad," he bawled. "But I g—got lost and P—Peeves said that a b—big m—monster was going to eat m—me—" He continued, sobbing even harder. Snape glared at Lupin with even more hatred, if possible.

"Oh, my," said Lily. She knelt down and gave the boy a hug. "Nothing around here is going to eat you, hun," she said, trying to comfort him. He sunk his face into her robes and bawled in a fury of tears that could rival baby Dudley's.

"Oh, I don't know about that," hissed Snape, locking eyes with Lupin. "I've heard the forest is full of dangerous _beasts_—"

Lupin clenched his jaw and stared back at Snape, once again frowning.

"How's your Defense essay coming along, Lupin?" he sneered, his hand tightened on his wand. "What an interesting choice of a topic! I certainly am having a wonderful time researching how to exterminate disgusting—"

"Don't," Lupin said quietly. His eyes flew fearfully to Lily for a split second before returning to Snape.

Harry couldn't tell if she noticed or not. Lily looked up at both of them uncertainly from her spot on the floor, the first year still in her arms.

Snape's wand, already out, was now pointing towards Lupin. "You should be locked away somewhere—" he growled, advancing on him slightly.

Lupin backed up a fraction of an inch, both their eyes still locked. "Don't be an idiot, Severus—" he said tensely.

"Don't tell me what to do you filthy half—"

"That's enough," said Lily sharply, standing up. She looked angry and obviously—slightly confused. The first year had stopped crying outright and was now sniffling and holding her hand.

"Git," Harry said to Snape, who couldn't hear him anyway. "Slimy git," he added sportingly, directly to Snape's face, feeling some satisfaction that Snape couldn't punish him for it.

She moved closer to Lupin. "We are going to take Alex back to the Hufflepuff common room," she said firmly. "And you—" She looked angrily at Snape's wand. "Put that away and go patrol somewhere else, why don't you?" Snape didn't respond, but he whirled around and stalked off, muttering furiously about mud-bloods and half-breeds as he went. Lupin took Alex's other hand and he and Lily led him down the corridor.

"What was that about?" she asked Lupin.

"Dunno," he lied in a mumbling voice. Harry wondered how much of that conversation his mother had picked up on. Apparently Lupin was wondering the same thing, because he seemed a tiny bit shaken. But then again, he was under quite a bit of stress as of late.

"Right then," Lily sighed, apparently not believing him. They both ushered Alex to the entrance to the Hufflepuff dormitories, a painting of a rather plump, smiling wizard in a feathered hat and cape, and made Alex promise not to leave his dormitory after curfew_ ever_ again. He agreed, tearfully, and disappeared behind the portrait hole.

"Why don't you meet me in the common room after lunch?" offered Lily, as they walked back. "I'll help you go over everything you missed last week. It was rather a lot, and if you're not talking to any of your friends, Charms isn't the only thing you missed…"

"Really?" said Lupin, his tired eyes lighting up. "Thank you, so much—I—if you don't have time I understand—"

"Nonsense, Remus," she said. "It's no trouble at all."

Lupin looked elated and extremely relieved. "Thanks, Lily."

She smiled. "What are friends for?"

000

Lupin was still going through Snape's memories. He felt somewhat guilty about this, but that guilt was vastly overwhelmed by curiosity. Besides, he just wasn't very good at navigating in Pensieves and this whole mess wasn't entirely his fault. Yes. Precisely. A complete accident, and not his fault in the least.

He followed Snape down a dark tunnel.. He was wearing flowing black robes (which wasn't entirely unusual) and was near the front of a long procession of masked, black robed figures.

The figures marched slowly down the hall for a very long time. No one spoke. About a dozen of the masked figures were carrying green torches above their heads, filling the gloomy tunnel with dim, creepy light.

The procession finally spilled out into a large, circular room. The walls were high and carved solidly out of grayish rock. The masked figures spread around and stood against the walls, leaving a few figures standing in the center. At the opposite end of the room, a pale figure swathed in flowing black robes rose slowly from his throne.

"He has a_ throne_?" thought Lupin incredulously. Arrogant, soulless, filthy, murderous bastard…what kind of mental complex drove him to construct a _throne_ in his headquarters?

"Welcome…" he hissed, standing before his assembled followers. "Tonight, we assimilate new brethren into our midst." There was a subdued, but politely excited muttering among the gathered Death Eaters. "Lucius, step forward with your candidate,"

"Yes, my Lord," muttered one of the masked figures. He approached the throne, steering the masked figure Lupin had pegged as Snape forward as well. They both knelt down and kissed the hem of his robes.

"Arise," he commanded. That cruel voice was so unsettling. Lupin knew for a fact that it was much, much worse having to hear it in person, but the lingering memory was still enough to make his skin crawl. "Show your face," he commended, glaring regally at Snape. Snape obediently removed his mask and respectfully turned his gaze to the floor.

"Kneel," commanded Voldemort. Snape bent down onto one knee. He pulled up his sleeve and held up his forearm. Voldemort accepted it into his long, spindly white fingers. He ran a finger along Snape's pale skin before wrapping the palm of his hand around the lower part of the arm in a vice-like grip.

"You will follow all orders," he said, squeezing Snape's arm even harder.

"Yes, my Lord."

"You will obey without question."

"Yes, my Lord."

The skin on Snape's arm was emiting a hissing sound like it was being branded with a hot iron. Lupin could swear there were wisps of smoke slipping out from between Voldemort's white fingers. It looked rather painfully, but Snape did not flinch.

"You will serve our noble cause, to destroy the weak and impure."

""Yes, my Lord."

"You will serve until your death."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Arise, now, Snape, Knight of Walpurgis."

Snape stood up and faced the assembled "knights." Lupin made a disgusted noise. Then again, it was sort his fault for watching this in the first place.

"And now, the final test," said Voldemort, smiling. "Lucius?" Malfoy nodded and flicked his wand. Snape looked slightly surprised, but concealed it quickly. Apparently, he wasn't expecting whatever was about to happen. A tiny shivering figure, wrapped in tattered grey blankets, appeared in the center of the floor. It was a little girl. She couldn't have been more than six or seven. She looked around the room in terror with huge, tearstained brown eyes.

"W—where am I?" She burst into tears once more. "I want to go home," she sobbed.

"Crucio!" said Malfoy. The girl arched backwards and rolled on the stone floor, twitching and screaming in agony. The assembled crowd laughed at the spectacle. Horrified, Lupin stepped forward instinctively. He quickly realized that there wasn't anything he could do. These were only shadows of the past, nothing more. Nothing could be changed. He backed away, appalled.

Snape looked at the little girl, his expression unreadable. Malfoy finally pulled his wand back. The girl stopped screaming but continued crying. It was a terrible sound that made Lupin feel sick inside.

"Severus?" said Lucius, gesturing towards the girl with a mock bow. His face was hidden, but it was obvious he was smiling sadistically.

Snape paused for a split second probably weighing his options. Lupin tried to imagine his position. On the one hand—if he didn't kill the girl, they would kill him. Also—the girl was probably dead anyway. If she survived this, she could only look forward to more torture most, likely from Malfoy. Lupin mentally swore at Malfoy for being a perverted and disgusting excuse for a human being. On the other hand, this entire affair hinged on _murdering a little girl_, which Lupin did not find appealing in the least. He wasn't sure how Snape felt about it.

Snape raised his wand and quietly sent the killing curse towards the small girl. She crumpled to the floor, lifeless, he tearful eyes open in shock. The Death Eaters began clapping. The green torches were extinguished and they began milling about the room as if they were at a dinner party, stepping unceremoniously over the body in the center of the room. Voldemort disappeared mysteriously into another chamber.

"Congratulations, my friend," said Lucius pompously. "Welcome."

"Thank you, Lucius," replied Snape. "I am honored." Lucius walked away. The crowd was slowly filing out of the room in small groups. Another Death Eater walked up behind Snape and removed his mask, revealing an older man.

"Well done," said the older Death Eater approvingly. "My son. You have finally proven yourself. My _true_ son…." He smiled grimly. "No longer plagued by weakness, perhaps…."

"Thank you, father," said Snape quietly. He did not look pleased to see him. Septimus left with another small cluster of people. A few minutes later, Snape followed a younger couple out of the chamber. They walked in silence down the passageway and onto the quiet, dark streets. It was a bright, clear night. The three of them tucked their masks into the pocket of their robes, revealing a young Bellatrix Black and Rabastan Lestrage, hanging all over each other like sexually depraved teenagers. Well—actually they _were_ sexually depraved teenagers—so it wasn't that unexpected.

"Excellent kill, Snape," remarked Lestrage. "Not even a tremble. The knights were impressed."

Snape nodded appreciatively.

"Knights," scoffed Bellatrix, her arms snaked scandalously around Lestrage's body. "What a stupid name." Snape stared at her, uncertain.

Lestrage snorted. "Tell him your name, Bella."

Bellatrix smiled in her depraved, insane way, staring out at Snape from behind somewhat excessive amounts of jet black eyeliner.

"The Death Eaters." She ran her finger seductively across her boyfriend's chest. "We are the Death Eaters."

Apparently overcome with sadistic desire, they began violently kissing under a street lamp, oblivious to the outside world. Snape hurried past them. Lupin turned away, trying to repress the urge to gag. There were something that should not be done on a public street corner, no matter how late it was.

Snape hurried down several blocks, finally turning a street corner and cutting across some Muggle lawns. He paused, looking at his own reflection in on of the darkened windows of a house.

"This is what you wanted," he told his reflection. He stared at himself for a while, perhaps not entirely convinced that was true. He gingerly raised his sleeve, looking down at his forearm for what Lupin was fairly sure was the first time that night. There was a large red welt of scarred skin. In the center was the dark mark—a snake, a skull, and stars—burned deep within the flesh of his arm.

He looked at the mark intensely. He moved with his other hand to touch the mark, but paused and replaced his sleeve instead. Then, he knelt down and proceeded to be violently sick into someone's wilting flower-bed. After a few moments of gagging, he stood up and hastily Disapperated, his face quite a bit paler than usual.

000

**AN:** I'm not really a Remus/Lily shipper, but I do like the idea of them being friends. Also, my sister told me I'm obsessed with angst (hey, I never denied it) so I've decided to write something funny next chapter. It will be totally awkward to juxtapose it against some hideous Snape angst. Doesn't that sound awesome? ANGST! (And pure fluffy humor, coming soon.)

Quote of the Day:

"The crown is mine, b-tch!" – Clark Kent, Smallville


	20. Burdens Borne

**AN:** Hello all!** 117 REVIEWS! YAY!** THANKS SOOO MUCH TO ALL THOSE WHO REVIEWED! And now, on with the story….

000

The cottage was small but cozy, and the simple but elegant furniture seemed to contrast sharply with the lush, green flower garden outside. Harry peeked through one of the cottage's small windows, taking in the sight of the dense, expansive forest outside.

Lupin was curled up in one of the wicker chairs reading a rather intimidating, thick looking book. This was his house then. The cottage was silent except for the soft, jazzy music emanating from a crackling phonograph in the corner and the occasional rustling of the turning pages. Harry leaned over Lupin's shoulder to see what he was reading.

_An Ancient Compendium to Wizarding History in Ancient Mesopotamia as Recorded by the…_

The title was a bit longer than that, but Harry thought he might fall asleep on the spot if he had to finish reading it. How did a werewolf who spent most of his time fighting the Dark Arts manage to be so boring? The light jazz continued to permeate the room.

Suddenly, the fire flared up. James Potter's disembodied head was floating inside of it, looking distinctly ruffled. Lupin shut his book and looked up with surprise.

"Moony!" said James frantically.

"What is it?" asked Lupin, sounding slightly concerned.

"It's Lily!" he said in the same loud voice.

"Is she alright?" Lupin stood up, suddenly tense. "She hasn't gone into labor has she?"

"No," said James. Lupin immediately looked less rigid. "She's—she's driving me crazy!"

"Really?" An amused grin curled its way onto Lupin's features. "Whatever seems to be the problem?"

"She's gone mad!" stammered James. "The weird food cravings, the mood swings, her emotions are out of control and—Merlin's beard—so is her magic! She lit the kitchen table on fire today _without_ her wand when I told her we were out of milk! And—the hormones! The hormones!" He sounded as if he were recounting some harrowing tale of survival in a dangerous war zone.

"And what precisely shall I do to alleviate your predicament, dearest Prongs?" asked Lupin, smirking. "You need me to knock her off for you then?"

"Yeah, make it look like Death Eaters, no one will catch on!" said James brightly. Then his face fell. "No—that would be wrong…"

Lupin burst out laughing. "Well, I'm glad to see your moral compass is still so assuredly intact."

He was so much more open and relaxed around his friends, Harry noticed. Or maybe it was just the fact that he was younger…or the fact that he still _had_ all of his friends. He hadn't lost them all yet.

"Actually, I do need a favor…" said James's head.

"Name it."

"I'm going away on business for a few days," he explained. "And I don't want her to be alone. She's already seven months along…Ugh—I don't think I can take too much more of this," he added.

"Yes, of course," said Lupin in mock sympathy. "I can see how this whole pregnancy thing is such a burden for _you_."

"Now, now, no need to get snarky," said James. "So, how about it? I asked Sirius and Peter to drop by as well."

"How much supervision does she need James?" asked Lupin. "She's quite capable of handling herself."

"That's what I'm worried about!" he said. "Strength in numbers. Not for her, for _you_. You can't go in there alone. It's too dangerous." His eyes widened, a terrified look crossing his features. "She's—she's like a Chinese Fireball when she gets mad."

Lupin continued to laugh at him. "When do you need me?"

"Right now?" asked James pleadingly.

"Sure," said Lupin broadly. "Move your inflated head, mate, I'll be right over."

James complied, Lupin ducked into the fire, and Harry reeled as he shot through the Floo Network for a split second and rematerialized somewhere else.

"Remus!" cried a female voice happily. "How are you?"

"Good as ever," said Lupin, climbing out of the fireplace and dusting off his robes. He strode over to Lily, who was smiling. Her stomach was swollen with—Harry. Harry decided that this was a very odd thing to be looking at. "And how is the loveliest witch in England doing this morning?"

"Stiff, swollen, and achy," she said. "So just right!" She gave Remus a quick, friendly hug. "I'd be better if my _husband_ wasn't abandoning me and our unborn child for a week!" she said to no one in particular, eyes flitting innocently to the ceiling as she spoke.

"I'm sorry dear, you know I wouldn't go if it could be avoided," apologized James pleadingly.

Sirius and Peter, who were sitting idly in the living room, snickered. Sirius coughed loudly in a vain attempt to hide his laughter.

"I do have to go now," said James. He lifted up a briefcase from the table, prompting Harry to wonder what exactly his job was. It looked like some kind of Ministry work: an Auror perhaps? Harry could hope, at least.

He strode over to Lily and kissed her gently on the cheek. Then he bent down and kissed her swollen belly. "I'll be back soon, I promise," he said earnestly, more to the lump in Lily's stomach than to her. He gave Lily on last reassuring smile, then disappeared into the fireplace.

Lily stared at the roaring flames. For a few moments, everything was silent.

"So, pretty lady, can we do anything for you?" Sirius stood up and walked towards her grinning broadly. "Three humble male servants, all at your beck and call," he said, spreading his arms wide and indicating the other inhabitants of the room.

Lily didn't respond. Quite suddenly, she burst into tears. Sirius looked flabbergasted.

"What's wrong, Lily?" asked Peter, his face a mixture of worry and confusion.

"Stay away from her, you great cowardly git," Harry snarled.

"I—m—miss—ss J—Ja—James," she sobbed wildly.

"What?" said Sirius in bewilderment. "He's only been gone for three seconds."

Unfortunately for Sirius, this only caused her to cry harder.

"I w—want him h—home," she wailed.

Lupin stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her shaking body. He steered her over to the couch, and they sat down gently. She buried her face in his robes, still crying harder than ever.

"Shh, Lily, it's alright," he said in a soft, soothing voice. Sirius and Peter sat down on either side of them, still confused. "He'll be home before you know it. Don't cry, love." He stroked her back until her sobs dissolved into hiccups.

"Oh, Moony," said Sirius, when Lily had finally quieted down. He shook his head. "Only you could get away with stroking James's wife while he was out of town…"

"I'm hungry," said Lily suddenly. Apparently his father wasn't kidding about the mood swings. His mother, who had been bawling her eyes out moments ago, now had a very bright, cheerful look on her tearstained face.

Sirius looked relieved. Finally, something he could deal with.

"What would you like to eat, m'dear?" he asked.

"Treacle tart," she said.

"I'll run out and get some," said Peter, standing up.

"Good riddance!" called Harry. Hmm…too bad there was no one to appreciate his running commentary on events. He was pretty sure Ron would have found it amusing.

"I—" interrupted Lily. "I want homemade treacle tart."

"You want us to make you a treacle tart?" asked Sirius incredulously. "We have to _cook_ it? In the kitchen?"

"Yes, Padfoot, that is usually where one cooks things. In the kitchen," said Lupin, with playful sarcasm.

Lily's lower lip trembled violently. "My mum always used to make treacle tart," she told them, her eyes wide and over bright.

"I don't know how to cook things!" protested Sirius. "I never cook things."

"There's a first time for everything, isn't there?" said Lupin. He grabbed him and dragged him towards the kitchen.

"Er—I'll just stay here and uh—," said Peter, looking frantically around for an excuse to stay out of the kitchen.

"Oh, no you don't," said Sirius loudly. A single hand darted out from behind the dividing wall and grabbed Peter's collar, yanking him forcibly into the kitchen. Harry followed them. The three men stood in the kitchen, looking around in bewilderment at the shining clean countertops.

"I—er— think we need a cookbook," said Lupin finally.

"Yes!" cried Sirius triumphantly. "A cookbook!"

Peter poked his head out into the living room. "Lily, where are the cookbooks?"

"In the cabinet on the left," she called from the other room. "It's in the big white one."

Lupin opened one of the cupboards and pulled out the cookbook.

"Here," he said, popping it open on the counter. "Olde English Desserts."

"Bloody hell, Moony," said Sirius in horror. "That's a Muggle cookbook."

"Well, yes, Padfoot," said Lupin patiently. "I imagine Lily's mother had a tendency to use Muggle cookbooks, considering the fact that she was a Muggle."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "This is impossible," he said authoritatively.

"Nothing is impossible!" said Lupin grandly. "Wormtail, find the flour. I'll get a bowl."

"And what should I do?" asked Sirius impatiently.

"Don't get in the way?" offered Lupin pleasantly. He bent down and started rooting through one of the lower cabinets.

"Hey!" Sirius looked indignant. "What makes you an expert on making treacle tart?"

"Absolutely nothing," replied Lupin, straightening up and setting the bowl on the counter.

"Oh," said Sirius, as if that was a proper argument. "Well, what can I do?"

"Find me some golden syrup," instructed Lupin.

"What the buggering hell is golden syrup?" demanded Sirius.

"You know, I haven't the foggiest idea," said Lupin. Peter set the flour down on the counter.

"When you cook things the wizarding way, you just need to concentrate on the ingredients and the way they blend together, not what they actually are," said Peter. He seemed to be struggling in his attempt to open the flour container.

"You cook?" asked Lupin.

"My mum taught me," said Peter, blushing slightly.

"Well, that won't help us now," whined Sirius.

"I think it has something to do with boiling sugar," said Lupin, staring at the cookbook and frowning.

"Why would you boil sugar?" asked Sirius, folding his arms.

"How should I know?" said Lupin.

"Stupid, ruddy lid," grunted Peter as he continued tugging at it.

"Maybe it's childproofed," offered Lupin.

"They don't have children yet!" retorted Sirius.

"Oh, precaution, what a terrible concept…"

"Fine! I'll get it, move Wormtail."

"I can get it, Padfoot."

"Wait, both of you can't—!"

The lid launched itself off the jar with such force that it lodged itself into the ceiling. Lupin, Sirius, and Peter stood stock still, deep in shock and covered from head to toe in a thick coating of white flour. Flour now coated the entire kitchen. Harry was pretty certain he would have been coated in flour as well, had he not been incorporeal. He laughed hysterically at them. They stared at each other in bewilderment, blinking owlishly.

"Are you boys ok in there?" asked Lily.

"YES!" they all cried in unison, jumping slightly. They were far, far from ok, but obviously deeply terrified as to what would happen if Lily walked in at that moment.

Lupin took a deep breath. "It's fine. We clean up the kitchen and we use the remaining flour to finish the recipe." He was trying to remain as calm as possible.

Ten or so minutes later, the kitchen was spotless and the (now empty) flour container was back on the shelf. Lupin was stirring a bowl full of what might actually prove to be treacle tart. Lily walked into the kitchen, observing their progress with delight.

"Mmm," she said happily. She walked over to the fridge. "You know what would be good with that?" she said. "Venison."

"What?" said Peter.

"Isn't venison made out of…" said Siruis, once again looking horrified.

"This isn't some unconscious, aggressive hatred of James trying to surface, is it?" asked Lupin.

"Moony, you need to stop reading things."

"No," said Lily. "I _want_ some. We don't have any because, well—it would be creepy and disturbing."

"It's still creepy and disturbing!" said Sirius. "Whether or not our dear, _deer_ friend—_Prongs!_—is here…"

"But I want some," she whined. Her voice grew more agitated. "James, James, James! Everything is always about James! What about me? James isn't the one who's stuck at home with a stomach the size of a house, I can't even go to work! James! I hate James! I want venison!"

She looked extremely angry, which Harry found interesting, considering she had been crying her eyes out when James left, not very long ago. She prepared to continue her rant. A crystal vase on the mantle teetered ominously.

"OK, fine!" said Sirius suddenly, cutting her off. "Wormtail, would you run to the market?"

"Sure, mate!"

He did look a little more eager than necessary to be leaving, but then again, Lily was like a timebomb. A very scary timebomb.

"Great! I'll come with you! To you know—make sure you don't get attacked or anything," said Sirius. He grabbed his cloak and they both raced out the door.

"I'll stay here!" said Lupin loudly as the door slammed shut. "No problem…"

Lily plopped down on the couch with the treacle tart and a large spoon. "Would you like some, Remus?"

"No, thank you," Lupin said emphatically. He brushed the corner of his robe, banishing the last telltale traces of flour. He sat down on the couch next to Lily. She took a bite of her pudding and sighed thoughtfully. "What's the matter?"

"I'm just—I don't know. Are we doing the right thing?" she idly twirled the empty spoon the air.

"What do you mean?"

"Bringing a child into this world," she said sorrowfully. "I mean—do you know why James left?" Lupin obviously didn't, so he remained silent. "He has to go survey a village outside of Dorchester. A clan of giants came down from the mountains a few days ago, and they—they destroyed everything. And everyone." She dropped the spoon back into the bowl. "How can I bring a child into _that_ kind of world? What kind of life can I give him? What if—"

"Lily, the only thing a child of yours and James can do to this world is make it profusely _better_," said Lupin firmly. "You are doing the right thing. You and James will make wonderful parents." He placed a hand on her stomach and smiled. Lily smiled back, and clasped his hand, her eyes over-bright.

"Thank you, Remus," she said softly.

"Your baby is going to be very special Lily," said Lupin. "Very special."

Harry stared at the ground.

000

Lupin was in a meadow, on the outskirts of a small town, under a vast starry sky. The sky, Lupin noticed with much displeasure, also contained a bright, full moon. Fortunately, in his current state he could just do his best to ignore it and its bloody stupid, creepy light. Two figures were crouching on top of one of the lush, deep green hilltops. They grew larger as he approached. There appeared to be no one else around.

Was he still in Snape's memories? He certainly wouldn't mind if he wasn't. After all, he was deriving absolutely _no_ pleasure whatsoever from spying on Snape. Of course not. None at all. And he certainly wouldn't be making any extra effort to get _back_ into Snape's memories when he should be concentrating on finding Harry and getting out of the Pensieve. Definitely not. That would be childish. Letting his curiosity get the better of him like that! OK. Maybe he would.

He thought he heard something rustling next to him. His imagination? Or perhaps someone in an invisibility cloak. He did not think this memory belonged to either of the people on the hilltop—he did not recognize them from the Order, past or present.

The figure were now clearly discernable—a man and a woman. The man was dressed smartly in Muggle clothes—he looked to be fairly well off. However, in his current situation, his disheveled dark hair was falling across his face and he had a rather anxious expression on his face. The woman's already fair white face was pale and exhausted. She had a sheet of raven hair which probably would have fallen past her waist if she had been standing up, and striking green eyes. A long black traveling cloak fluttered across her swollen stomach, and she was panting heavily. She was in labor, Lupin realized. She suddenly doubled up and moaned as another contraction hit.

"Please, Melantha, we have to get to a hospital," said man pleadingly.

"No, no, I can't. I can't have this baby at the Muggle hospital…" she panted breathlessly. "I can't…you don't understand…"

Apparently he did not, for Tom looked rather bewildered. "Then we need to get back to the house, then—"

"No!" she cried frantically. "It's not safe there. He'll find us. We—we have to keep moving." She attempted to struggle to her feet, but fell backwards again, groaning in pain.

"Who will find us?" said Tom, his brow furrowing. "Mel, you're not making sense. You're sick right now. We have to get to the hospital—"

"No hospital!"

"Bloody hell!" Tom looked frustrated. "What is wrong with you? Do you really want to endanger yourself and the baby like this? We need some help—" He stood up and looked desolately around at the barren landscape.

"Tom, Tom, I have to tell you something," she said breathlessly, clutching his wrist in a clammy hand. She was staring at the ground and rocking back and forth. "It's very important—it's something—I should have told you—aahh_hhh_…!"

Tom looked at her as though she was quite insane. He was looking more and more desperate as time ticked by. He turned and looked at the vast darkness. Lupin followed his gaze to a nearby hillock. A cluster of dark figures had materialized, as if out of nowhere, and they were rapidly closing in on the stranded couple. Tom squinted his eyes and stared at them, not sure if he should be threatened or relieved.

"Hullo?" he called experimentally. The shadowy figures did not respond. "Are you from the village? My wife, she needs—"

Melantha looked up suddenly and saw the figures, a look of abject terror appearing on her face.

"NOOOO!" she screamed wildly. "Stay away from us!" She plunged her hand into her cloak and pulled out her wand with a trembling hand. "Get away!" She did not look capable of casting any sort of functional defensive spell in her current state. The wand slipped in her hands.

"What are you doing with that stick?" asked Tom, obviously irritated that his wife had completely gone off her rocker and was now threatening the only people who could possible help them with a pointy wooden stick.

One of the figures raised his wand, pointing it directly at a bewildered looking Tom. A deep, scratchy voice spoke. "Avada K—"

Melantha screamed.

At that moment, there was a flurry of movement next to Lupin. Someone threw off an invisibility cloak and lept forward.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" a hoarse voice shouted. The wand flew out of the attacker's hand. The crowd of black robed figures—there must have been at least a dozen of them—turned towards their assailant.

It took Lupin a few seconds to recognize who he was looking at. The man was dressed in a traditional Auror's robe—very traditional, the uniform was probably standard decades ago. He had course, dark hair that was slicked back against the base of his neck and his skin was somewhat dark, but smooth. He was staring at the crowd, with narrowed, beady black eyes.

"What are you people?" shouted Tom furiously. "What the bleeding _hell_ is going on?"

"Stand aside, Auror," said one of the figures in black. "You have no business here."

The Auror stepped in front of the couple and smiled grimly, jutting out his jaw as if he were enjoying himself immensely. "No," he said in an unfittingly cheery tone. "But thanks anyway, old chap."

"Stand aside or die," countered the figure, raising his wand.

"Now that's not a very nice thing to say," he said, still grinning cheekily.

"Very well." The figure pointed his wand towards the Auror. "Av—"

Another figure materialized suddenly on the scene in a swirl of violet fabric and auburn hair. "Expelliarmus!" The wand soared away. "Bindus!" A shimmering golden rope encircled the figures and jerked them closer together.

"Albus," said the Auror. "It took you long enough."

"I had business to attend to, Alastor," he apologized. "Forgive me."

Alastor?_ Alastor Moody? _ Lupin gawked at the young Auror. He looked like he was barely in his mid-twenties. There wasn't a single wrinkle on his face. Even his personality seemed different. Then again—that could be reconciled with the fact that this version of Alastor Moody still possessed all of his appendages, including both legs.

The robed figures were struggling against whatever binding spell Dumbledore had placed on them. They would not be held for long. Moody eyed them warily. Dumbledore swooped down over to the spot that the Riddles were lying in the grass.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Dumbledore asked, gently.

"Who—who are you?" she demanded, growing more and more hysterical. "Stay away! Stay away from my baby!" She jabbed her wand into his face and suddenly dropped in, her face screwed up in pain. "Ah…!"

"I am here to help you," he reassured her. "No one will harm your baby."

She stared at him, clearly not believing him in the least. Looking around at the assembled crowd, Lupin couldn't say he blamed her.

"How long?" asked Dumbledore.

"It's been hours," she said. "I think it's only minutes, now…minutes…." She moaned again.

At this point, Tom looked as though he had had quite enough. He pointed an accusatory finger at his wife. "What are you?" he demanded, looking at her as though she were something strange and hideous he had never seen until this moment.

On the ground and panting heavily, Melantha did not look like she possessed the energy necessary to explain herself.

"I'm…I'm a witch, Tom," she said in a small, exhausted voice. "I'm different. I'm…"

Tom looked wildly around, his eyes resting on Dumbledore. "What are you? Are you a witch?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "No, I am a wizard," he clarified.

Tom looked at his wife again. "Are you—like _them_?" He indicated the wizards around him in disgust.

"Yes," she said, her voice now barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I couldn't. I knew…you wouldn't like it…but now I have to because…" Her hand clutched her stomach.

Tom's eyes widened in horror. "You infected our baby with it?"

Melantha's eyes filled with tears. "Tom…" she reached out her hand, but he jerked it away, repulsed.

"You—you stay away from me! I don't know you!" He stumbled backwards.

"Your son—" began Dumbledore softly.

"That thing is not my son!" he screamed. "I have no son! I have no wife!" He turned and ran away into the night as if something indescribably horrible were chasing him. Melantha began to cry softly.

Suddenly, Moody was blasted backwards onto the ground. He stood up, cursing wildly, and began firing curses back at the black robed crowd. They had freed themselves of whatever binding spell was upon them and were now spreading out, encasing Moody, Dumbledore, and the shaking Melantha in a wide circle.

"Alastor, have you ever delivered a baby?" asked Dumbledore in an inappropriately casual voice.

"No, Albus I have never delivered a baby," snapped Moody. "I'm an Auror, not a bloody _midwife_." He ducked a stream of blue light. "_Malegro!_" he roared, leaping back onto his feet. Curses were flying everywhere with alarming frequency and no particular indication of direction.

"Help her," said Dumbledore. "I will take care of this."

Moody knelt down next to the woman and stared at her uncertainly. Her eyes were shut tight, and she was shaking. Moody tentatively lifted up her robes and peered underneath her skirt, looking extremely uncomfortable. Apparently he did not like what he saw, because he immediately dropped the skirt.

"Bloody hell," he grumbled. "Magic of new life, my arse." Grudgingly, he reached his hands under her skirt. "Alright—your going to need to—push the—" He looked down. "rest of the kid out." Moody did not look very pleased with his current situation. Lupin couldn't help but snicker. The look on his face was rather priceless.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore had managed to subdue most of the black robed figures.

"Dammit, Albus—" said Moody gruffly. "You'd better get over her and do—this."

Dumbledore crouched beside them. Several moments later, Moody was holding a baby. He pulled off his cloak and wrapped the tiny infant in it. Lupin decided the miracle of birth was not so much precious as it was slightly nauseating. Then again, he knew it was probably different if it was _your_ child. He had not been in the room when Harry was born—but James had later insisted it was the most exhilarating thing he had even been a part of…

Melantha held out her trembling arms. Moody handed her the baby and she clutched it tightly to her chest, rocking back and forth. Tears poured silently down her face.

"What's his name?" asked Moody, with all the kindness his gruff voice could manage.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," she said, her voice hoarse and cracking. "After his father. And Marvolo after his grandfather."

Moody looked at her incredulously. "After his father?" he said in disguist. "That coward who just aband—"

"Alastor," said Dumbledore in a warning voice. Moody fell reluctantly silent, but he clearly had a few more opinions about Tom Riddle that he was dying to vocalize.

Dumbledore looked around, frowning. Suddenly, the air was filled with crackling sounds as at least twenty more black-robes Apperated into the meadow. They immediately began firing curses at Moody, who gave a yelp of surprise before he was blown back by numerous jets of light. He landed hard several dozen feet away, his leg bent at an odd angle. They swarmed down upon Melantha as she screamed. Despite her current state, she struggled wildly in their grasp, clutching her baby.

Dumbledore continued to fight. Though he was outnumbered at least thirty to one, he did not seem to be having any problems handling himself. Lupin shook his head in disbelief.

Several minutes passed without a clear victor. At some point, Melantha stopped screaming. One figure seemed to have emerged as the leader. He evaded each of the restrictive spells Dumbledore had used on the rest of the crowd.

"Enough!" he said suddenly. The fighting stopped. The man was dressed in the same robes as the rest, but he held himself differently—more purposefully. His eyes, though small and cold, seemed normal—except when they flashed with an unearthly, reddish light as his gaze flitted around the chaotic scene.

The crowd of black robes around Melantha parted, revealing her still cold, body. She was staring blankly at the starry sky, her face frozen in a twisted mask of fear and pain. One of the figures was holding something. A small bundle of robes. The baby.

The leader saw this and smiled. "I have what I came for."

"No," said Dumbledore. He whirled around, trapping the remaining crowd in an Anti-Apperation jinx. "I cannot let you take him."

"He is mine, old man," hissed the leader, his narrowed eyes flashing red. "The prophecy—"

"The prophecy does not give you, nor anyone else, jurisdiction over his soul," countered Dumbledore. "You have _no_ right to corrupt in that way. He is just a child."

"Just a child?" he sputtered. "You old fool! That child will be more powerful than either of us can imagine. I will show him his true destiny. He will be strong by my side. I—"

"Oh, stuff it, you old wind bag," snapped Moody, who was still on the ground. Blood was dribbling out of his nose, staining his robes. The leader whipped his wand towards Moody, who immediately started gasping as if he was choking.

"Leave him out of this, Grindewald," Dumbledore waved his hand, and Moody collapsed, coughing.

"You old hypocrite," said the leader, furiously. "What would you do? Raise him in your own image? Take him for yourself? All of his power?"

"No. He will make his own choice."

"The child is _mine_."

"You will not take him," said Dumbledore simply, as if he were stating a fact.

With a roar of rage, Grindewald attacked him. Dumbledore defended himself almost effortlessly. Curses flew through the air. They dueled for what seemed like an eternity. Lupin had never seen Dumbledore fight this way. In was almost frightening to see the old man's eyes blazing in that way.

The earth beneath Dumbledore began to tremble. It opened suddenly, revealing an endless chasm. Dumbledore stepped backwards and flicked his wand, burying Grindewald beneath a shower of earth and uprooted grass. Dumbledore reached out and caught Grindewald's wand in an outstretched hand.

Grindewald lay on the ground, panting and covered in dirt. He glared at Dumbledore hatefully. "Go on," he spat. "Finish it."

"I do not wish to kill you," said Dumbledore quietly. "But I have spared your life. In my debt, you shall never come near Tom Riddle again."

Grindewald glared at him, his eyes blazing furiously. "So it shall be, and may my debt of blood be repaid, bound by eternity," he growled. An old wizarding pact. Very old. Lupin had read about it, but he had never heard anyone use those actual words. Such traditions had faded long ago.

Dumbledore handed him back his wand. Humiliated, filthy, and livid with rage, he Dissaperated. Dumbledore took the baby into his arms and flicked his wand. The crowd of black robed figures disappeared, leaving Dumbledore and Moody alone on the hilltop.

"What will you do with him, Albus?" asked Moody, staring at the child uncertainly. "You've heard the prophecy. It might be best if that child never learns his true destiny."

What prophecy, wondered Lupin. He didn't know there was a prophecy about Voldemort's birth as well. All this foretelling was starting to become a problem…

"He is free to make up his own mind," repeated Dumbledore, gazing into the child's tiny eyes.

"Where will he go?"

"A Muggle orpahange. He will be safe there, in neutral territory."

"_Muggle_ orphanage?" said Moody skeptically. "Are you mad, Albus? That child. He's going to be one of the most powerful—"

"He will choose his own destiny," Dumbledore looked into the night sky, his expression one of sadness. "It is not our place to influence him in such a way." Tom had fallen asleep, cradled in Dumbledore's arms. Moody looked at the tiny bundle, almost fearfully.

He slowly uttered the question that hung heavily in the air, though both men seemed to be been afraid to speak it aloud. "What if…he makes the wrong choice?"

Dumbledore did not respond. He stared silently into the sky.

000

**AN:** Wow! That was probably the looongest chapter ever. I know, I know, the whole Voldemort birth thing probably isn't the way you pictured it, but it _technically_ follows with canon. Hey, these are my interpretations, I'm doing the best I can! Oh, and the name Melantha means "dark flower." I dunno, I thought it was cool. And the whole Dumbledore throwing Tom in a Muggle orphanage to let him experience life and choose his own fate—doesn't that seem like something he would do? Let me know what you think.

Oh, and I'm sorry I didn't have Snape in this one. (Unless you hate him, of course.) He'll be back next time! Really he will!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!


	21. That Awful Boy

**AN:** Yes, yes, everyone wants to know if Harry and Remus will be reunited. Yes! Eventually. Just not right this second. Don't worry I wasn't going to leave you hanging. Hehehe.

000

Harry looked around, finding himself in a strange house. Unfamiliar, but like so many things he had seen, it gave off an air of familiarity. The cozy family room contained two people—a middle-aged couple pouring over several thick binders. They looked tired and determined, but contented.

Harry squinted at them. The woman's auburn hair was pulled into a loose bun behind her head. She was wearing Muggle clothes, a dark green blouse, and was surveying the papers on her lap through square silver glasses. Her husband was wearing Muggle clothes as well, from the way they were dressed, Harry guessed it was early spring. His dark brown hair was graying around the temples, and he was looking over his wife's shoulder with vivid green eyes.

Something in Harry's mind clicked. He had seen them before, at his parents' wedding. The Evans. His mother's parents. His grandparents.

"Flowers?" asked Mrs. Evans, sighing.

"Every last one of them, delivered last night," replied Mr. Evans evenly.

"Cake?"

"Two feet high and covered in little pink flowers."

"Bridesmaid dresses?" she asked.

"Honey," said Mr. Evans kindly. "Everything is ready. Don't worry about it."

Mrs. Evans took her glasses off and sighed, massaging her temples. "I know…it's just that Petunia is so particular—I'm worried that the slightest little mishap will ruin her entire experience and—"

Mr. Evans gently massaged his wife's shoulders. "Everything will be fine," he assured her. "Things are going to go flawlessly tomorrow. It's going to be the happiest day of her life."

"AAAAAAHHHH!" An earsplitting shriek tore through the house. "Where are my shoes? They were right here!" Mr. And Mrs. Evans winced as the voice of their eldest daughter reverberated from upstairs, out of sight. Harry found that the sound didn't alarm him too much. It had been a staple of his entire childhood.

Harry's brain asked the question he had been previously distracted from. Whose memory was this? His eyes swept the room once again, and they fell upon a pair of eyes peering through the glass paneling surrounding the front door. The eyes silently watched the Evans, just as Harry was doing. Harry turned and glided like a ghost through the front door, out onto the patio.

Two more people stood just outside of the door. A young Lily Evans took one last peek through the windows of her home and turned back to her boyfriend. James stood only a few inches taller than Harry. He was tan broad-chested, obviously a side effect of years of Quidditch. He cringed as Petunia's shrieks drifted outside.

"Merlin and Agrippa, what the buggering hell is that _noise_?" demanded James, wincing.

"My dear sister," said Lily grimly. "Get used to it." Lily looked briefly at the door. "Are you ready to go in?" she asked him.

James's eyes darted towards the oak door. "Yes," he said. "No! Yes." He ran his hand through his messy hair, though Harry thought it seemed more of a nervous habit than anything else. He seemed to have abandoned his usual cocky slouch for an uneasy, rigid posture.

Lily bit back a smile, apparently enjoying the spectacle. "Are you nervous?" she asked. She clasped both his hands in hers. "You're never nervous. Not before Quidditch matches or tests or graduation speeches or, well….anything."

"You make me nervous," he said softly, smiling. He kissed her forehead and she giggled. He ran another hand through his jet black hair. "How do I look?"

"Like you just fell off your Nimbus and landed on my doorstep," she replied. Harry's heart leapt at the word "Nimbus." James looked even more anxious. "Don't worry, you look wonderful." She reached out to ring the doorbell. Her finger paused just above the button, as a terrified expression crossed James's face. Lily smiled reassuringly at him and pressed down on the button. A hollow ringing sound echoed through the house, accompanied by Petunia's braying shrieks.

"THAT HAD BETTER BLOODY WELL NOT BE VERNON! WHERE'S MY ROBE! AAAAAHHH!"

Mrs. Evans pulled open the door, her eyes lighting up immediately when she saw her daughter. "Lily!" she cried, leaping forward to embrace her daughter.

Her father rose from the couch, smiling broadly. "We were worried you wouldn't make it back in time, Firefly."

James looked at Lily with an eyebrow raised. "Firefly?" he mouthed silently. Lily chose to ignore him.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, Dad," said Lily, hugging her father tightly. They collectively winced as more shrieking sounded from upstairs. Harry pondered the fact that Mr. And Mrs. Evans did not seem to understand the concept of instantaneous transportation.

"Now Lily," Mrs. Evans advanced towards James, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Please tell us who your handsome friend is."

"Mum, Dad," said Lily, extending her hand towards him. "This is James Potter."

"Please to meet you, son," said Mr. Evans genially. He firmly shook James's hand and smiled. "Sorry things are so hectic here. Wedding tomorrow and all."

"Oh, the pleasure is mine, sir," said James. Harry thought he was trying very hard to keep cool.

"Are you from a…" Mr. Evans paused, searching for a word. "Muggle! A Muggle family as well James?" he asked.

"Oh, no, sir," said James. "My both sides of my family have been witches and wizards for as long as anyone can remember."

"Oh," said Mr. Evans. "That's nice."

Mrs. Evans looked at James thoughtfully. "James Potter?" she said finally. "The Quad—er—Quidditch player at Lily's school? That James Potter?"

"The very same, apparently," said James, politely kissing Mrs. Evan's hand. James smirked at Lily, whose face had turned slightly pink.

"You're such a sweet young man!" said Mrs. Evans. "Well, now, isn't that funny? Lily would always come home raving about what an intolerable little egotist you were, but really I always thought that deep down she wanted—"

Lily cleared her throat loudly. "Yes! Thank you very much, Mum," she said, cutting her off. James wiggled his eyebrows at her while her parents' backs were turned. "How are things coming for the wedding?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"They're going very well," said Mr. Evans firmly. "Nothing to worry about."

"Oh, that reminds me dear," said Mrs. Evans. She reached behind the couch and pulled out a flat white box. "Try this on. It's your bridesmaid dress."

"Ooh," said Lily, accepting the box. "What dress did she end up choosing? I really liked that sky blue off the shoulder…" she trailed off, looking in puzzlement at the strained smiles on her parents' faces.

"Petunia chose a lovely dress," said Mrs. Evans. Harry thought she sounded like she was trying to convince herself of this fact more than her daughter.

"Just make sure it fits, alright Firefly?" said Mr. Evans.

Lily nodded. "Sure, Dad."

"Do you have any luggage, James?" asked Mr. Evans.

"Oh—yes," said James pleasantly. Mr. And Mrs. Evans stared at him expectantly. Harry had to agree. James had walked into the house virtually empty handed.

"It's in my pocket," explained James, indicating his empty looking pocket. .

"Oh," said Mr. Evans. Apparently they had grown accustomed to magical things that cannot he easily explained.

"That's nice," said Mrs. Evans. "Show James to his room, would you, dear?"

"Of course." James trailed behind her as she went upstairs.

"It was very nice meeting you both," said James.

"The pleasure was ours, dear," said Mrs. Evans. Mr. Evans nodded in agreement. Harry followed his parents upstairs. Lily pushed open one of the doors, revealing a small, cozy bedroom decorated with soft, off-white colors. It contained an abundant amount of lace. Well…Petunia had to get it somewhere.

"This is your room," said Lily. James peeked his head in and looked around, seemingly fascinated. "I know it's not quite as impressive as the Potter Mansion—"

Harry raised an eyebrow. _Mansion, eh?_ That would explain the mountains of gold in his bank vault.

"No!" said James earnestly. "It's nice. Perfect." He looked around the hall. "Where's your room?" he asked innocently. Lily didn't respond, but she made a face at him. She turned and headed down the hallway. James followed wordlessly behind her, a rather idiotic grin on his face.

Lily ushered James into her bedroom. It was about the size of the other rooms, but had bolder colors than the rest of the house. The walls were a bright, deep blue, and were adorned with various posters. Harry recognized a few of them, but was slightly bewildered by most. The Beatles and Queen were obviously rock bands, though Harry had very little contact with any sort of music in the Dursley household. She also had a few posters of soccer teams Harry had never heard of. Dudley didn't follow football. Compared to the rest of the house, her room contained much less lace, but there were several stuffed animals propped up on the bed and dresser.

James paused in front of the dresser and picked up on of the animals. It was a squishy red and gold dragon. It blinked and flicked its fluffy tail when James stroked its back.

"Hey," said James suddenly, sounding affronted. "I bought this for you for Christmas sixth year and you told me you took great pleasure in chucking it out the window of the North tower!"

"It was a cute little dragon," Lily shrugged. "It's not the dragon's fault _you_ were the one that bought it." James rolled his eyes theatrically. "I'm going to try this on," she said, patting the box. She slipped behind a folding silk screen, out of sight. James sighed. He plopped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

A few moments later, Lily emerged from behind the screen, wearing what was quite possibly the ugliest dress Harry had ever seen. It was even uglier than the frilly-collared aberration Mrs. Weasley had hoisted onto Ron for the Yule Ball fourth year.

Lily's dress was composed of numerous layers of frilly, shiny pink taffeta. It had a high collar, and even more layers of peeling pink fabric blossoming around her neck. It was hideous.

"How bad is it?" asked Lily twirling. James looked at her thoughtfully.

"I think it's the most beautiful, sexy thing I've ever seen," he said honestly.

"Really?"

"Yep. Too bad about that ugly dress though," he added playfully.

Lily rolled her eyes. She caught sight of herself in the mirror and paled. "Oh. My. God. My sister is completely insane…oy. Well, at least it fits," she muttered dully. She hurried back behind the changing screen. "They should have laws against dresses like this," she grunted. The layers of taffeta rustled loudly as she attempted to free herself from her pink prison.

Harry thought he heard something shifting outside the door.

"Azkaban would be very crowded if everyone wearing something ugly was tossed in," mused James.

"Azkaban?" asked Lily curiously, still behind the screen.

"Wizard prison," said James, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He sat up slightly. "Oh come now, tell me you've heard of Azkaban?"

"Hmm…the name sounds familiar…" Lily paused, emerging from the curtain a moment later in jeans and a t-shirt. She sat down next to James and attempted to tame the frilly pink dress back into its white box. It was proving extremely difficult. Harry stared at it. Had it been vacuum sealed in there or something? Lily gave up and pulled out her wand.

James shook his head. "Azkaban is one of the most terrible places on Earth."

"Why? What's it like?" Lily's dress sprang up and began stuffing itself into the box.

"The prison is guarded by Dementors," James said quietly.

Lily's eyes widened. _Had she ever met a Dementor? Or seen one?_ Harry knew that she must have covered them at some point in her DADA curriculum.

"Hundreds of them," elaborated James darkly. "All over the island. My uncle had to go there once, for the Ministry—it's—they say most prisoners go mad within weeks."

"Oh my…" said Lily. The dress box shut itself tightly and fell to the floor, motionless. James flicked his wand and the dress rose again and floated in front of them, dancing and fluttering as if an invisible person were inside of it.

"Do you think it would be less ugly if it were blue?" he asked casually. He flicked his wand and the dress immediately turned to a bright, vivid blue, almost matching the color of the walls.

"Stop that, James," she said indignantly, but giggled despite herself. "I just put that away!"

"How about green?" he asked, smiling now and clearly enjoying himself. At that moment, several unfortunate things happened.

Petunia burst through the door screeching furiously about how her dress was _not_ ugly, but more tasteful and elegant than anything Lily had ever owned. She was wearing a voluminous white terrycloth bathrobe, her hair was entombed securely in dozens of pink plastic rollers, and her face was covered in a thick layer of sea green gunk.

James flicked his wand at the dress, turning it a deep shade of forest green. His mischievous grin quickly faded when he caught sight of Petunia's green face and pink rollers, and he yelled very loudly, apparently in fear. Harry snickered.

Petunia's shrieks of fury turned very quickly into shrieks of fear when she caught sight of James performing what Harry thought was a very non-threatening bit of magic. Soon they were both screaming. James instinctively raised his wand at her.

"Merlin and Agrippa!" yelled James in alarm. "Lily, did you know there was a hag living in your house!"

"James, no!" cried Lily, grabbing his hand. "You git, that's—" Outside, heavy footsteps thundered down the hallway, growing closer. The large bulk of a man suddenly materialized in the doorway.

"Petunia?" he said gruffly. "What's all the shouting about, pumpkin?" His eyes widened suddenly when he saw James, Lily, James's wand, and the floating green dress. "What the buggering hell is going on in here?" He demanded, his eyes bulging. Harry surveyed his uncle critically. Vernon's was much younger and not quite as spherical as Harry remembered. He was slightly portly now, wearing a professional business suit, and noticeably lacking his large, bristly moustache.

Petunia stared at them all in opened mouthed horror. "Vernon!" was all she managed to squeak. James lowered his hand. The green dress fluttered harmlessly to the floor.

"Hello." Lily forced a smile and extended her hand. "It's nice to finally meet you Vernon." He did not accept her hand.

"You're that mad sister Petunia was telling me about, aren't you?" he demanded, eyeing her suspiciously and keeping his distance. "The one in rehabilitation school for the criminally insane?" His eyes flicked briefly to the fallen green dress.

"Criminally insane?" said Lily, huffily.

James leapt to his feet, his eyes blazing. "You take that back!" he said angrily, glaring at Vernon. Harry winced. _No, this didn't look familiar at all…_ "Just who do you think you are? You can't talk to her that way!"

"James," said Lily sharply. James was either ignoring her, or was too angry to hear anything but Vernon's insults. Harry could sympathize all too well.

"I am Vernon Filbert Dursley, soon to be the Assistant Junior Associate Assistant to the Vice Chairman or Grunnings Drill Company," he said, puffing himself up very importantly. Petunia looked up him with a sudden outpouring of starry eyed admiration on her sea foam green face. Harry made a gagging noise that no one could see. "And just who are you? One of her freaky friends? Just what were you doing to that dress?"

"I was improving it," said James. "Though it's so ugly, I might as well not have bothered."

"I think it's a beautiful dress," scoffed Vernon. "Very…feminine." Lily coughed loudly into her hand, probably masking a laugh. Petunia looked enraged. She buried her face in Vernon's chest and wailed theatrically.

"Oh, she's always like this!" moaned Petunia. "Coming home with all of her—_weirdness_ and ruining my life, and now…" Petunia's lower lip trembled. "She's trying to destroy my wedding!"

"There, there, dear," said Vernon, patting her on the shoulder. "Now you two—" He turned to James and Lily. "—should leave at once. You have no right to come in here and upset her like this." Harry was surprised at Vernon's resolve. He was usually terrified of anything resembling magic, wizards, or wands. Maybe he did not have the proper conception of exactly what he was dealing with…yet.

James was still fuming. "That's ridiculous. This is Lily's house just as much as it is hers!" He pointed an accusatory finger at Petunia.

Vernon stepped towards James, in front of Petunia. "Now I don't want to have to hurt you," he said, drawing himself up to full height. "But the two of you should leave now. You obviously don't belong here."

"My parents invited us here," snapped Lily.

"Probably too afraid of you and your—strangeness—to turn you out properly," he growled. Lily's jaw dropped and she stared at him in shock.

"Excuse me?" she said finally, aghast.

"You heard me," said Vernon. "You are obviously some kind of freak. Take your friend and leave now."

James had clearly had enough. He whipped his wand out. Less than a second later, Vernon Dursley was hovering in the air near the ceiling, spinning like a top, thus fulfilling every deliriously happy fantasy Harry had ever had.

"Apologize," said James in an extremely calm voice, considering the situation. Petunia and Vernon were screaming in absolute terror. Lily was looking very torn between amusement and horror. Harry split the difference and cackled hysterically.

"I'm—sorry!" sputtered Vernon. James hesitated for a moment.

"James!" scolded Lily. James sighed and dropped Vernon unceremoniously onto the bed, which creaked loudly in protest.

"I think it's time for _you_ to leave," said James pleasantly, as if nothing had happened. "And if you ever say anything like that again, I'll turn you into a pig. Well—a real pig, which may or may not be more of a pig than you already are."

Vernon sputtered a furious amount of gibberish. He looked absolutely terrified. He muttered a quick goodbye to Petunia and hurried out the door. Petunia whimpered in the doorway and stared at them with wide eyes. Harry couldn't tell if she was terrified or furious. Or maybe both. She turned and stomped down the hallway, slamming the door behind her as she retreated to her room.

Lily sighed, alone once again in the room with James. And Harry, of course. Sort of.

"I can't believe you did that," said Lily.

"He deserved it," said James resolutely. Lily shook her head. "Don't tell me you didn't find that funny." Lily's mouth twitched at the corners. She turned away swiftly, hunting for something on the floor.

"I refuse to answer that, Mr. Potter, on the grounds that it may incriminate me." She swung her head around, frowning. "Have you seen my dress, James? I can't seem to find it…"

Now it was James's turn to hide a smile. "What dress?" he asked innocently. Lily picked up the white cardboard dress box and opened it. No longer empty, it contained an eerily familiar looking black business suit.

"James…" she said in a warning tone. James smiled innocently and stared at the ceiling.

Harry's head whipped around at the sound of a man bellowing in surprise and fury from somewhere outside. Harry raced to the window and stuck his head through the glass. He watched as two stories below, a very angry man raced down the street as fast as his legs would carry him.

He was wearing, Harry and quite a few people on the street noticed with great delight, nothing but a _very_ ugly pink taffeta bridesmaid dress stretched awkwardly over his portly frame.

000

**AN:** I apologize for this kinda short chapter, but I haven't updated in a looooong time so I thought everyone might appreciate me posting something….anything…heh. Lupin will be back next chapter! (I know, I miss him already, too.) I thought Vernon wearing address was enough to merit an early posting. grins maliciously Yes, I am pure evil. What of it?


	22. Great Expectations

Lupin was back in the woods, walking quickly next to Dumbledore. He recognized the scene immediately. How many times had he run around in those woods as a child? Lupin looked critically at his former Headmaster. There were a few flecks of red poking through his white beard as he strode along, his beard and cloak swaying in the breeze.

He approached a small cottage in the woods and rapped sharply on the door. It swung open, revealing a woman with shoulder length, dark brown hair, and light hazel eyes. Lupin bit back a gasp. His mother looked so…young. He felt a sharp pain, looking at her. Here she was but—not alive. Not real. She was just a shadow. He mentally scolded himself for his reaction. He had lost so many people in his life—he had a tendency just to block everything out, push it away…

"Professor Dumbledore," she said, looking surprised but delighted. Something akin to hope ignited in her eyes. "Please come in." She extended her hand in a welcoming manner. Dumbledore thanked her politely and entered the house.

A tall man strode in from another room. He looked to be in about his late-thirties, with light brown hair and grayish-blue eyes. He was wearing a set of black wizarding robes. Lupin noticed he was limping slightly—leaning heavily on his left leg—but hid it well. His father had been badly scarred, trying to take him back from Greyback the night he was bitten. He sighed inwardly. His father had just enough pride to hide his injuries. His mother had scolded Remus for the same tendencies more times than he could count. Greyback and his father apparently had something of a history, though Remus hadn't been informed of this until much later in his adolescence.

"Professor," he said jovially, racing forward and shaking his hand heartily. "Or shall I say _Headmaster_, now? Please accept our sincere congratulations."

"Thank you, Damian," said Dumbledore graciously.

"Please make yourself at home," said Damian Lupin. "Come, sit down."

They moved into another room and gathered around a table. The couple moved swiftly, the airs about them cast in a kind of muted excitement. No one spoke for a few moments, until they were all seated comfortably, drinking tea.

"Professor." The woman licked her lips nervously. "It's wonderful to see you, but I…I was just wondering…"

"What I am doing here?" finished Dumbledore, smiling broadly. "As you know, in early August, the acceptance letters to Hogwarts school are sent out…"

"We know," said Damian uneasily. "Remus—didn't receive one."

"I am aware of that…" said Dumbledore evenly. "Headmaster Dippet and I have had—conflicting views over this subject in the past."

"I've talked to Dippet," said the woman quickly. "He was rather…adamant…about Remus's admittance." The look on her face suggested she had just swallowed something extremely unpleasant. "As in an emphatic _refusal_."

"Though that certainly did not stop you from trying," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling good-naturedly. "Most admirable. I do recall one specific occasion when Dippet hid under his desk just so he would not have to argue with you…quite undignified."

The woman blushed. "Well—I—"

"My dear lady, I understand completely," he smiled. "If all parents were so adamant about their children's education, my job would be far simpler. However, as times change, so do opportunities, and new doors open to us." He reached into the pocket of his robes. The couple at the table leaned in slightly, as if he were about to reveal a particularly juicy secret. "Now then…I have brought something that may interest you…"

He set down a small, parchment envelope on the table. The Lupins looked at the envelope in stunned silence, as if it were precious gold.

"I am most regretful that it could not be delivered by owl at the proper time, but this is an important point. Though we will attempt to make his education as normal as possible, certain precautions will have to be taken when Remus attends school. I—"

Mrs. Lupin made a little squeaking noise with her throat. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice trembling. "But could you repeat that last part?"

"Certain precautions, regrettable though necessary—"

"No," she shook her head, "the part after that."

Dumbledore looked slightly bemused. "When Remus attends school…?" Mrs. Lupin squeaked again.

"Yes, that part," she said, her eyes brimming with emotion. "I just wanted to hear that again." She looked at her husband, and he squeezed her hand. Lupin leaned forward so he could stare right at his mother, his nose inches from hers. She wanted him to attend school so badly; it was all she talked about for a long time. She wanted him to have as normal of a life as possible. He wished he had another chance to tell her how much that meant to him…

"Is young Remus here this afternoon?" inquired Dumbledore politely.

"Oh, yes…" said Mr. Lupin, looking towards the ceiling. "Remus, could you come in here, please?" he said, in a moderately loud voice. Mr. Lupin smiled apologetically at Dumbledore. "Excellent hearing. We actually have to charm the walls sometimes, he hears everything…"

There was a thumping noise from the staircase in the other room, and then suddenly a small boy appeared in the doorway. Lupin looked at his younger self, allowing a small smile to cross his features. He looked from his parents to the white-bearded stranger in his dining room with wide-eyed curiosity.

"Sit down, dear," said his mother, motioning him towards a chair. Remus moved quickly forward and climbed up on the chair next to her. "This is Professor Dumbledore, Remus," she said. "He's the new Headmaster at Hogwarts."

"Hello, sir," said Remus's younger self. He extended a tentative, tiny hand forward and shook Dumbledore's wrinkled old hand.

"Your parents and I have been discussing your formal education, Remus," revealed Dumbledore. Young Remus looked extremely excited. Adult Lupin didn't recall this incident with terrible vividness, but it was rather a significant moment for him. Imagine…education! At Hogwarts, which his mother absolutely gushed about, (though not as much when she saw the look on Remus's face.) No more lessons with his father. (Those tended to end with his father sighing and saying, "Now I really am not sure how to explain this properly…" and Remus becoming appropriately confused with the instructions.)

"Now you have technically been removed from the enrollment books since your accident…" Lupin recalled, apparently accurately, that he had had no idea what Dumbledore was talking about but had been very excited the whole time. "But I believe we can get around that with a special pardon from myself and a certain amount of discretion." Remus nodded, as if that made sense to him.

"Very good," finished Dumbledore, smiling. Young Remus smiled as well, though he was still rather confused. "Now, from what I have discerned from previous correspondence with your parents, I understand that you have already had some instruction in magic?" Dumbledore looked almost eager, thought Lupin curiously.

"Er—yes, I have, sir," said Remus. "I…I know some spells…"

"Would you be able to give me a demonstration?" asked Dumbledore.

"I—" Young Remus looked tentatively at his parents, but then back to Dumbledore. "I don't have a wand, sir."

"We tried to get him one," his father offered, a tinge of irritation creeping into his voice. "But he wasn't allowed to have one—something about the Code for Restrictions and Regulations on Non or Partial—" He clenched his jaw in frustration. "On some stupid bylaw."

"Yes," said Dumbledore evenly. "Decree 427. Another very sanctimonious piece of Ministry nonsense, if you don't mind my saying so."

"Not at all," said his mother emphatically.

Dumbledore smiled. "Of course, there are certain...shall we say—loopholes? In the law, enough for me to guarantee that with proper documentation, there is nothing to prevent a legally certified school student from owning a wand." He pulled his own wand from his pocket and handed it slowly to Remus. Lupin watched his younger self accept the wand, almost reverently—which Lupin decided was extremely appropriate.

"Go on, dear," encouraged his mother. "Show him something."

Remus did not look pleased about being put on the spot so, but he resolutely raised the wand and pointed it at a Knut lying on the table.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" said Remus, nervously but resolutely. For a moment nothing happened. He furrowed his brow and repeated the incantation. The Knut gave a little shudder, then laid still.

"Swish and _flick_," said his father very calmly, as his son grew more and more flustered. Remus nodded.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" he said insistently. The Knut rose gently off the table and soared gracefully sideways. Lupin's face broke into the same sort of ecstatic grin that his parents were wearing. His younger self looked extremely relieved. Dumbledore opened his palm, and the enchanted coin flew over and dropped gently into it. He smiled, closing his fist and falling silent for a moment. Remus's parents were silent as well, staring hopefully at Dumbledore.

"Yes," said Dumbledore, his bright eyes twinkling. "Yes, I think that will do." He looked at Remus. "Excellent, truly excellent. You have quite a lot of potential, my boy." Remus beamed at him, as did his parents.

"So, that means…?" asked his mother slowly.

"We will welcome you into Hogwarts School in two weeks, Remus," said the Headmaster. "I realize this is short notice, but from what I am to understand, your mother has already purchased everything that was legally permissible for you to own, so—"

"Really?" blurted out Remus, his face lighting up. "I can really go?"

Dumbledore smiled gently. "_Really_."

"Congratulations, son," said his father, whose face bore an almost identical grin.

"All that remains is the logistics coordination, which _we_ will discuss at a later date…"

"Why don't you wait in the other room, dear?" suggested his mother.

"OK," said Remus immediately. He jumped up and scampered out of the room, taking Dumbledore's wand with him.

"Oh—" said his mother, smiling apologetically. "Sorry about that." She moved to stand up. "I'll—"

"Oh, no, please," said Dumbledore, moving quickly to his feet for one so old looking. But, Lupin knew very well, appearances can be deceiving. "I'll go. It's no trouble."

Dumbledore moved into the living room, and adult Lupin followed. He found his younger self sitting on a large armchair, legs swinging to and fro, not touching the floor. He was looking nervously at the door.

"Sir!" he cried frantically, racing forward to meet Dumbledore. "Sir! I'm sorry I took your wand! It was an accident! But then I wasn't sure if I was allowed to go back in because I'm supposed to be in here—"

"Dear me," said Dumbledore, looking a little taken aback by Remus's nervous stream of babble. Lupin felt vaguely embarrassed, though he was quite sure it didn't mean much now. "It's quite alright, you know."

Remus thrust the wand at him. "Here! I'm sorry! I can still come to school, can't I?" His eyes widened anxiously.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Goodness, of course you can!" He knelt down in front of Remus and accepted the wand, placing it in his pocket. "I think you put a little too much stock in the rules, my boy. Sometimes a little mischief is necessary. Perhaps you'll discover that, amongst other children your own age." He stood up, patting Remus on the shoulder. "Yes, yes, I think that would be just the thing for you…" he said more, to himself that to Remus.

Lupin could help but smile. He always wondered if Dumbledore was pleased or mortified with his choice of friends. He had a feeling that he was rather happy about where Lupin ended up, even though it was with the most unruly pair of students in the entire school.

Dumbledore turned to leave. Remus started to say something, then stopped.

"Yes, Remus?"

"I…I don't know about the other kids…I mean, I don't have that many…" Remus turned slightly pink. "I used to have them—friends, I mean, and—people don't really want to be around me anymore, I—"

"Remus," said Dumbledore reassuringly. "You will make friends at school, I promise. And besides, your…_condition_ will be our little secret, OK?"

Remus looked as though Christmas had come early. "You mean it? I don't have to tell anyone?"

"Not if you don't want to," said Dumbledore. "But—if you so desire—you may tell your close friends, when you feel comfortable."

"Oh," said Remus. He sat down on the couch and hugged his legs to his chest. Dumbledore sat down next to him. "I don't think I'll be telling anyone," said Remus, shaking his head. "I don't think anyone would like me if they found out."

"Well, that depends on the person," said Dumbledore. "It's important that we have close confidants, whom we can trust."

Remus looked at Dumbledore uncertainly, then looked away. "I don't know if it's a good idea for me to go to school."

"Don't you want to go?"

"Yes!" said Remus, snapping his head up to meet Dumbledore. "I do." He looked away again. "Only…I'm not so sure that I really belong there—my parents are, but…I'm—I'm not really _like_ the other kids, sir."

"Being different isn't necessarily bad, Remus," said Dumbledore. "Never think that."

Remus looked at the floor. "It _is_ bad. I—I get _sick_ a lot. I'm not very strong. I don't know if I can learn everything. I don't think I'll make a good wizard."

"Remus," said Dumbledore, refusing to continue until Remus looked him in the eye. "You are _very_ strong. Stronger than most people could ever comprehend. You have to be stronger everyday than most people ever have to be in their lives, and you are as yet still a child. Just because you are physically weak sometimes does not mean you aren't exceptionally strong inside. Real strength—comes from right here, not anywhere else." He pointed a wizened finger over Remus's heart. "Do you understand what I am saying?" Young Remus nodded.

"That strength is going to make you an equally exceptional wizard, Remus. Sometimes our greatest weaknesses can also prove to be our greatest strengths. I believe you will grow up to do great things. When the time comes, I will be honored to have you fighting by my side. That's why I am here today."

Lupin watched his younger self staring up at Dumbledore in awe. He couldn't help but feel the same. Was he really that 'exceptional'? Lupin had always believed he was a bit of a burden on those around him. Dumbledore risked his neck to educate him as a kindness—charity—a good deed from a good man. He was fairly certain that the fact that he had stayed alive for this long was more a function of luck than anything else…

"So what do you say, Remus? Would you like to come to school?"

"Yes," said Remus, after a moment's careful consideration. "Yes, I think I would."

"Good," said Dumbledore, smiling. "Then it's a deal. OK?"

"OK." He extended his hand, and they shook.

_OK_. That's that. Keep fighting. He did have a job to do, he scolded himself. Find Harry. He turned away from the scene, and it slowly melted away into oblivion. He frowned inwardly. It was very easy to get distracted in here.

000

Harry was still snickering over the image of Uncle Vernon in a bridesmaid dress, though the scene was long gone. Merlin, no wonder the man was so terrified of magic…heh heh…not that he didn't deserve it…

He was in the dungeons, in Hogwarts to be specific. Not exactly one of his favorite places—but at least it was familiar. He looked around, his eyes falling immediately on a hooked nose and a crop of greasy black hair. Ugh. Snape. His heart lightened when he noticed the pair in front of him—unruly black hair next a shimmering sheet of red—his parents. This was the first time he had actually seen them _together_ in school. Well—sort of.

The class was busily working away, pouring over texts and simmering cauldrons. Harry had materialized next to Snape—well—not next to him so much as at a certain angle to everything else—but it was enough for him to ascertain that this was Snape's memory. He was actually starting to get pretty good at this whole memory hopping thing. You know. Except for the part where he had any control over it whatsoever.

Another unfamiliar face stood at the front of the classroom—idly pacing around the desks and observing everyone's progress. The teacher was a large, older man who's frame sort of reminded Harry of Uncle Vernon—minus the dress, of course. Heh heh…He almost looked like a bearded, balding walrus.

"Come on now," announced the walrus man loudly. "First one to successfully complete the potion gets the prize…I want to see progress!"

Snape was hunched over the table, greasy nose buried in a battered looking potions text, scribbling little notes in the margin. He paused to look up, glare irately at the back of James's head, and resume his furious scribbling all over his textbook.

Deciding to ignore Snape, Harry strode over to his parents. He looked around and spotted Sirius partnered with some random girl. Sirius's gaze went back and forth from some rather inappropriate areas of the girl, to his cauldron, to the ceiling and back again. He looked supremely bored, and had yet to actually touch the book or any of the ingredients on the table.

Lupin and Pettigrew were noticeably absent—but that wasn't too odd, Harry decided. This looked like a NEWT level class, and Lupin had never hesitated to profess his inadequacy in potion brewing. And Pettigrew—well—was Pettigrew. Git.

He gazed over his mother's shoulder. She was carefully reading her text with one hand and slicing her roots with the other. James attempted to place something into the cauldron. Her hand shot out and grasped his wrist, effectively stopping him without actually looking up from the book.

"No powdered moonstone, yet—it'll ruin the entire thing. geez, I thought you wanted to win, Potter. Where's your competitive edge?" She grinned playfully and looked up.

James fingered the shiny Head Boy badge on his chest and grumbled intelligibly under his breath. "We're supposed to be working alone on these, you know," he pointed out.

"Oh, I know," she said cheerfully. "It's just that I'm not terribly worried about _you_ beating _me_ at potions." She smiled sweetly.

James tried to scowl, but he grinned instead. "You're incorrigible, Miss Evans."

Snape stared at the two of them, looking quite resentful. Harry rolled his eyes. What the hell was his problem now? James looked at his cauldron and frowned.

"It's not the right color, is it?" he said with a frustrated sigh. Lily leaned over and looked at it.

"Nope," she said lightly. She was stirring her potion, which was starting to turn a dark, purpley color. "Hmm…" she frowned, staring at it. "I think I need more sopophorus beans…" She stood up and moved to the spread of ingredients on the teacher's desk, perusing them slowly. Snape, who had been watching her like a hawk, sprang up and idly strolled over to the table beside her. James, who was busy frowning at his book and wildly flipping through the pages of his text as though it would suddenly jump up and scream the answer at him, didn't seem to notice.

Snape seemed like he was trying to appear casual, but in reality looked like he was having an epileptic fit. He lifted a few jars and stared blankly at the labels, standing next to Lily but not looking at her.

"Hmm…" said Lily. "Aha! Sopophorus beans…" She plucked a few out of the jar and frowned.

"What is it?" blurted out Snape quickly. He looked at her quickly, then looked away in terror.

Lily cocked her head slightly, perhaps confused, but continued, "Oh, well—I really think I could get more juice out of these things if a had a _silver_ dagger—but mine's just made out of—"

Before she could finish talking, he darted back to his seat, snatched a silver knife from his supplies, and thrust it into her hands without meeting her eyes.

"Er—thanks, Severus…" she said. She smiled at him. He flushed slightly.

"If you—crush it with the flat edge of the knife—" he began quietly, his voice sounding strained.

"You'll get more juice out?" finished Lily brightly, as she examined the knife. "I thought so…"

Snape looked at her, almost dumbstuck. Harry felt rather similar. What the hell…?

"You—you figured that out by yourself?" he said incredulously.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Yes," she said, with biting sarcastically. "But it did hurt my little Muggle-born brain so!"

Snape look unsure of how to react, but after a moment, he looked down and smiled—actually smiled—a little bit. "Well—keep it up," he said, his sallow face coloring slightly. "You're my only real competition in this class."

Lily looked a little surprised, but she eventually smiled warmly at him. "Then count on some competition," she said boldly.

"Lily…" whined James from her seat. "How do you ruddy—bugger all!"

Lily turned, as if to say goodbye to Snape, but his face darkened and he darted back to his seat without speaking. No—he slithered. He slithered because he was a slimy, stupid snake, though Harry ruefully.

Lily returned to her seat. "No—counterclockwise, James," she instructed. "Yes—I know what the book says—I did so read it—of course I can read, you git! Do you want my help or not?" she scolded him.

"TWO MINUTES!" called the teacher. He focused his attention on Lily. "Now, Miss Evans," he said, wagging a stubby finger at her and smiling, "this is an individual project, isn't it? Are you going to let the Head Boy take all your glory? Where's your ambition?"

"Ambition is a poor excuse for not having sense enough to be lazy," she quipped. "And besides, I've already finished." She folded her arms. "When ambition ends, happiness begins."

The teacher chuckled. "Cheeky as usual, my girl. Ah, if only you were in my House—Slytherin, you know, is quite the place to be…"

"Why I'd be flattered, sir," she said sweetly. "If I wanted to be in a House full of great smarmy gits…" She threw him an innocent smile.

Harry coughed loudly. And he thought his _dad_ had been misbehaved…he had it coming from all sides, didn't he?

James looked immensely pleased, and placed his arm around Lily's waist. The teacher chuckled good naturedly.

"Well—you are one of my brightest students, Miss Evans," he said. "But I'm afraid Severus here has bested everyone yet again!" The teacher strolled over and clapped Snape heartily on the shoulder. Snape remained impassive. He stole a quick glance at Lily, who smiled kindly, and quickly looked away. James looked angry. From the back of the room, Sirius coughed loudly several times, and in doing so, instructed Snape to do something very inappropriate and anatomically improbable. A few people sniggered.

Harry grinned, but he felt a little perplexed. Why was Snape acting so…weird? It could be—but—no—because—ew—and—Merlin…

When was he going to get out of here?

000

**AN:** Never! Mwa ha ha ha! I mean—soon. Mmm…tastes like HBP canon compatibility…I guess I _will_ be writing a few more chapters…heh heh…Sorry for the delay. I got distracted by other projects… Xx


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